The Hearts of the Suffering
by Arashi Leonhart
Summary: Ten years after the Fifth Heaven's Feel, Waver Velvet, Rin Tohsaka, and their allies seek to dismantle the Greater Grail for good.
1. Prologue - The New Star

_**Prologue**_

_**The New Star**_

* * *

In the forest, far from the battlefield, a knight rested his king beneath a tree.

"Bedivere."

Surprised, the knight knelt next to the one resting. "Your highness!? Have you regained your consciousness!?"

A faint voice answered. "…Yes. I was watching a dream."

That voice—it warmed the knight from within. Despite the grievous wound the king had taken, it still held a vitality that gave the knight hope. "A dream?"

"Yes. I have not had many dreams, so it was a wonderful experience."

"…But that is wonderful. Please then, be at ease and rest once again. I shall gather the troops while you continue."

A gasping sound, as if what the knight said was entirely unexpected.

"Your highness? Have I been rude?"

The king's voice was quiet, not due to the wound, but from the consideration of the knight's words. There was a sense of wonder to it. "No. I was merely surprised. I did not know a dream could be seen after one awakens. Are you saying I will be able to see the same dream if I close my eyes again?"

It was the knight's turn to be surprised. He stuttered, but replied even though he knew it was a lie. "Yes. If you strongly desire so, you should be able to continue watching the same dream. I have had that experience as well."

Such a thing is not possible. What happens only once and not continuously is what people call a dream. But the knight lied in spite of that.

The king murmured appreciatively. "I see. You are knowledgeable, Bedivere." The king's head remained lulled despite this, not looking up at the knight, eyes staring at the ground next to the tree.

Everything has ended. Chaos in this country would still continue. The battle will not end at just this, and the day of ruin will come around soon.

But the battle of the king has ended. He—no, she has fulfilled her duty until the very last moment.

…The light disappears.

Finishing her task, has her last strength disappeared from her body?

"I am sorry, Bedivere. This sleep will be… a… long—"

As if going to sleep slowly, she gradually closed her eyes. The morning sunlight filled the area. The forest stood there quietly, and the king went into a long sleep.

The knight kept watch over her figure. The king that he wished for. A lonely king that was sent off by just one knight. But—her face was what he wished for. A peaceful sleep.

In her last moments, the king obtained the peace she was never able to obtain before. He was happy about that fact, if nothing else. The knight thanked whoever has given her peace and proudly watched over his king.

"Are you watching, King Arthur…?" His murmur rode through the wind.

As if sinking into the endless blue, the king that went to sleep…

"…the continuation of the dream?"

…Sees a distant, distant dream.

* * *

Many years later.

In the mild cold of a Syrian winter, amidst insurgents and freedom fighters, mercenaries and death merchants, he settled in to rest. The lull between fighting had grown long enough for everyone to manage a midday sleep.

Strangely, he found himself thinking of that nostalgic sword. A sudden thought.

Gold and shining, unsullied, a sign of changing fate simply by drawing it from the earth.

It resided in her memories.

It defeated many enemies.

It broke when she sacrificed yet another part of herself for those she served.

It was remade to save them both once more.

However, he cannot recall the correct procedure, can hardly remember the strength of that time. That task he once studied every night, now gone away and replaced by the skills he now wielded.

Even the face of the one who held that blade aloft had faded to but a ghost of a recollection.

Memories fade far away with time. The feelings he had a lifetime ago were out of his reach.

It is already something in the past. That was only natural.

Only fifteen days told the story of when they encountered the Grail.


	2. Chapter 1: A Miracle of Heaven

_**Chapter 1**_

_**A Miracle of Heaven**_

* * *

The Heaven's Feel ritual. A path to the Source and a return of the Third True Sorcery.

The first was a false start. The ritual could not be completed.

The second was a failure. All of the participants could not come to an agreement.

The third was a disaster. Amidst the war of the century, evil tainted the spell.

The fourth was a betrayal. Victory came at a price the victor was unwilling to pay.

The fifth was a lesson. The path was now a plague upon the world.

Ten years passed, and the sixth was upon them.

However, wise men know not the road to truth.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

The Clock Tower was in chaos.

It did not appear so from the outside, if there was an outside to an organization that did not publically exist. Classes were held regularly. Students attended and teachers instructed. The halls were quiet during lectures and held the echoing murmur of regular chatting between periods. The mess had a regular influx of hungry people. The library had a balanced mix of studious attendees and sleeping ones.

The story was different in the locked-away offices and laboratories of the higher-ranked members of the Association. Like the stormy London weather outside, they were a flurry of activity, barking orders at underlings, furiously pulling out notes and devices from storage, some even tearing their workspaces apart in their hurry.

Rin Tohsaka noted the difference seemed to be exponentially greater with each level she descended within the building. Practical classes held on the upper levels were normal, offices and labs below that were busier than usual, but the more secretive locations huddled away deep underground were the most fervent in activity. The special conclave that had been called had those of any social standing oiling the political machine—and that meant getting work in order, calling in favors, reacting to news, interpreting rumors. Even as related to the issue at hand as Rin was, she was probably the only person with any kind of clout whatsoever that was not stressing themselves over what was to happen. Except perhaps one other.

The auditorium she sought was for senior students, one of the private class chambers exclusively for the use of an individual professor. Years ago it was the place where a young magus had been laughed out of a meeting regarding a term paper he had written related to the theoretical boundaries of research attained by inheritance and individual work overcoming it. Now it was his own stage, technically still the territory of the Archibald family, where the current Lord El-Melloi discussed liberal concepts within the Association.

It was also situated far from the hall where the conclave was still going, which meant a happy escape from the oppressive atmosphere Rin felt might suffocate her.

The students she found attending class in that auditorium were not a wide-eyed bunch, nor the high-nosed types that seemed to be very prevalent around the Clock Tower. Even compared to the apprentices Rin had her eyes on, they were an attentive group that seemed ready to, at a moment's notice, place a bet that went against all reason while maintaining the perfect poker face. Some might be akin to foxes, others to wolves, and one or two had the kind of presence that felt fey, even to someone like Rin—who certainly knew better than most what that might be.

The person at the head of the room was not any of those things. Rin always compared his presence to a brick wall ready to topple atop someone rather than a crafty animal. Despite his slight build, he somehow felt like an imposing presence looking down on them all. "It follows that once something is thought of, spoken of, or created in some shape or form if nothing else but in the mind, even if that idea is not taken to the stage of research or development, its existence is permanent."

Rin quietly slipped into the lecture hall, careful to close the door behind her without a sound. Nobody paid her any heed—the class' attention entirely on their professor.

"Ignoring the pun," at this the instructor gave a fierce glare, as if daring people to do otherwise, "for many here in Britain this has its origins from Medieval times. Although he was distilling it to nothing more than a literary expression, Chaucer makes the comparison in _The_ _Canterbury Tales_, implying the existence if this idea beyond even the control of our Association predecessors. This is a truth that was understood even within British culture itself, entirely disconnected from our history as magi."

If the situation were different, Rin might find the entire direction of the lecture amusing. Students in Lord El-Melloi II's classes paid attention with a rapt fascination to things that Rin thought were entirely mundane. For the world of magecraft, his words were an interjection of outside-the-box thinking, often drawing inspiration and information from non-magical sources. It went well with his beliefs of work and determination overcoming lineage, finding things that would not come naturally to a talented individual that only fell back on their family's knowledge.

Rin managed to catch the speaker's eye as he scanned the class for reactions to his words. She shook her head at his unspoken question.

His gaze went to a student nearer to the front of the crowd. "Tasmir, final thoughts?"

A dusky-skinned young woman stood and drew the attention of the class. She brushed her unbound hair back over her shoulders and cleared her throat. "I would merely emphasize that the theory is in-line with everything ever taught to us about the Source. If origin is a gathering of related concepts and embodied into things, whether they are alive or not, it is only logical for those concepts to exist as an independent form within Akasha. Whether they always existed there or only come to exist after they have been thought of on some level is a chicken-or-egg paradox. However," she made a faint, almost sarcastic smile, "I would wonder at the eternal existence of a concept like a _chair_ or _table_ predating humanity, even if they exist outside of observable time." She sat.

"Tools in general may have always existed so long there was something sentient to begin with, but I can't imagine formless gods needing to figure out specific ones necessary for boring themselves in a classroom." There were a couple of chuckles from the class, despite the fact that their instructor did not actually look like he was joking, a scowl still set on his face. "Meanwhile, unique concepts and ideas still exist to this day, despite being long forgotten and lost to time. While the most obvious of those to our kind may be the Five, my mind goes to other, harder-to-grasp ideas."

There were a few students that glanced to one another, trying to puzzle out what might be more difficult than True Magic. Rin found herself fighting off the desire to smirk.

"If there is nothing more, then I will let you out early so you can get to work immediately." The laughter died off. "You have over two weeks, no complaints. Dismissed."

The murmur of groans filled the air, but the students all started filing out without real complaints, gathering together and talking in hushed tones about the work ahead of them. Some of them passed Rin with curious looks: as a famed researcher rumored to have been visited by a certain famous Archmage, she had not been seen in a classroom for a few years when she had given a short lecture on Dimensional Refraction Theory. It was also known, but not spoken of, that her relation to the current topic of the conclave was significant: she was the one dissenting voices in a sea of otherwise stubborn or uncaring majority.

When the room was mostly clear but for two or three students, Rin descended the stairs to the speaker's dais. "Tables and chairs, really?"

Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi II, scowled as he ordered the papers before him. Or maybe he was not scowling at her—she could never quite tell the difference between his neutral expression or the myriad of bad moods she had seen him in. A slight man not much taller than she was, his hawk-like features were the only thing that truly gifted him with an air of intimidation. That wall-about-to-fall demeanor. "No knocking it, it's the first paper in three years that has both good ideas and competent grammar." It was said that some of his senior students—probably the ones still loitering around in fact—were just about the only people in the Association that could tell when he was joking. Rin was not sure here. "No good, huh?"

"Some good. I managed to get a few people talking at least." Rin sighed. The conclave was still, as far as she knew, actively ongoing at that very moment. "I'm surprised you had the nerve to still hold your class like normal. I would have thought the Archibalds would want you front and center."

"To say what I already have seventeen times before? Bugger that." He put all his notes into a bag and threw on his overcoat. Even this deep below ground, the London winter chill still permeated the air. "Give me the short version."

Rin sighed. She glanced at the two remaining kids in the class, who were not-so-subtly stalling their own pack-up to listen in. Since Waver too was looking right at them, their presence apparently would not affect any of the maneuvering going on behind the scenes. "The Greater Grail is active and we've got people that have marks showing up." She held out her arm where the same bruise started to rise from the back of her hand up her arm. "I'm already making arrangements, but I'm sure some of the other groups have already sent ahead feelers." She sighed. "The Einzberns have been tight-lipped as always. Yggdmillennia already voiced their interest, even after I explained the problem. It's happening, and I don't think we can stop it."

Snorting, Waver motioned for Rin to keep talking as he exited. He did nothing to stop the eavesdropping students from following. "Any good news?"

"Barthomelloi still doesn't care."

"That's not good news, that's Tuesday."

The Japanese witch eyed the students following in their wake. One was the dark girl that had spoken in class, the other a taller boy with a near crew-cut. The girl looked on with an appreciative suspicion that seemed right for a magus while the boy had an expression a little more carefully schooled into a neutral mask. "Good news: you have very brown-nosed hanger-oners."

"I would rather brown-nosed than gold-digging," Waver said, giving Rin an even look.

"You sure you want them hearing?"

"Finbar there will just send some stupid tiny familiar to listen—yes, what's with that look, I know you've done it before—and then they'll know anyway and fuck if they want to be young and stupid, that didn't stop me." The way he said it was entirely too even the whole way through, as if he was merely reciting his grocery list. "Spill it already."

"I've got someone already there watching things. She should be able to give us a heads up about the immediate situation. And testing with…it…went about as well as I could have hoped."

The way the students all leaned in at her words unnerved Rin just enough to inch away. Even if Waver vouched for them, like most magi she did not like revealing anything unnecessarily about herself, even in vague statements.

Waver did not seem concerned. "Where are you going from here?"

"Artifact Requisition. I want to see if I can't find out anything about too-interested parties. It won't help against Einzbern or the other families with their own resources, but I want to try and head off anybody I can. I've got a plane to catch later today after that."

Another snort. "You're not staying for the rest of the conclave in case something relevant crops up? No, don't answer that, I don't care." He stopped in stride to reach into a pocket for a cigar and lighter. Despite the fact that they were not supposed to smoke anywhere inside. "Fine. Get going. I'll be in touch."

"To be in touch, you have to actually communicate with people, you know."

"I am. Hello. Goodbye. Safe trip. Get lost."

Rin sighed again.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

When Rin was out of sight, Waver turned back to the male student that he had called Finbar. "You _were_ recording, right?"

"Every step of the way."

"Broadcast. Make sure it gets to who it needs to." He took a moment to appreciate his cigar. "Then you two _are_ to get to work on the term paper. You're not fooling anyone."

Even if it was not very obvious, both students' expressions fell just a tiny bit.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

There was no consensus. Magi throughout the Association could not make a decisive move. The argument from the Tohsaka family was to declare it a complete failure and dismantle it. With darkness tainting whatever route they could forge with the ritual, there was no longer a reason to desire it.

The Einzberns were not swayed. The path and the Third could be reached. The Tohsaka simply wanted to deny their rivals their destined right.

The Matou were silent in this, not even bothering to send a representative to the conclave.

Others that had once been involved or wished to be involved in the future had their say. Some even sequestered hopefuls away to make plans behind closed doors, the Einon clan chief among them. Yggdmillennia declared their intention to support Einzbern and participate in the ritual once more.

Some still sided with Tohsaka, or remained unaffected. Few of the true powers within the Association cared for the ritual itself—but the struggles between factions could not be overlooked. This could cause a shift in power as it once had to the Archibald family.

The system in place cared not for the social maneuverings of mortal men. It only desired one thing.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Returning to the more traversed areas of the Clock Tower returned Rin to the hustle and bustle of a busy and nervous Association. As she passed researchers and students and the occasional member of one of the major political factions, it was clear that Waver Velvet's students were not alone in their curiosity related to her ties to the conclave's subject of discussion. Some expressed outright surprise that she was busy doing something other than attending the meeting and asserting her powerbase.

What she was doing was, in a way, just that. Her resources just happened to be more in information and preparation than popularity and politics.

"Artifact Requisition" was another term for the office that cataloged the various items recovered by the British Museum and kept by the Association when deemed relevant to magecraft. It was not called an archive because items were not stored within—most families or individuals kept their own stores of relevant items. Instead, they worked through the office when certain items were desired, which made the position a very favorable one within the Clock Tower: the ones who controlled it were often very rich, had friends in high places, and their pick of some of the rarest antiques in human history.

Technically, it was a part of the Summoning Department as it pertained to their abilities the most. Those within the department often had to peruse through the information provided by Artifact Requisition if they wished to commune with stronger, more specific entities. Other departments went through them as well: Necromancers often favored items related to the dead of ages past, while Enforcers occasionally used items of ancient history as equipment or as reagents for weapons and Mystic Codes utilized in their jobs. Rin knew that in the Holy Grail Wars prior to the fifth some of the Masters had gone through the AR channels to obtain catalysts related to Servants: her own father, she had discovered, had done so to obtain his Servant.

The office was also reflective of being a data archive as it resembled a small library more than a storage or display room. Some large tomes were even stacked ten tall on the floor rather than safely on a shelf. The desk that was dead center was cluttered and also stacked with three towers of binders.

As Rin had once peeked into the office that served the Summon Department's head, she had expected the archive room to be similar—jars with strange creatures and preserved bodies, lead boxes sealed from clairvoyant eyes, pieces of ancient armor or clothing—so the otherwise boring appearance surprised her. It smelled right, nothing else, a closed-off room full of old papers was bound to smell stale.

It appeared as if the requisition director was not in. Rin had met the man once before, a man a decade older than she was, slightly heavyset and with a hairline that was already receding. Behind the desk was someone else, a young man probably a couple of years younger than Rin. Also not what she would have expected to find in this kind of setting, as he was tall, dark-haired, and appeared either health-conscious enough or vain enough to work out regularly. He was busy, stacking up loose papers and parchment, glancing at each piece in turn to organize it in some fashion.

"Yes?" the man asked, hardly glancing up from his work.

"Is Rolland Storr going to be in today?" Rin thought it best to get it straight from the horse's mouth whether there was an increase in interest over summoning catalysts.

"He should be in later this afternoon." The man did not look up at all as he compared two sets of papers, discarded one, while setting the other into his pile.

Rin frowned. At least other departments usually tried to give the slightest show of decorum if nothing else than to keep rivals and enemies from having reason to openly declare hostilities. Either this one was truly engrossed in organization, or he had the social know-how of a chimpanzee. "And you are…?"

"Extremely busy, if you couldn't tell."

So, chimpanzee then.

Rin started to speak again, but was interrupted by a voice from the hall behind her. "Torian Rottwood, fifth generation, assistant to Mister Storr and unofficial apprentice. Not heir apparent to the Rottwood family line."

Despite keeping his gaze firmly on his work, the man visibly cringed at the last mention.

"Obviously overlooked as a heir due to his charming manner," Luvia Edelfelt added. The blonde magus came from the opposite direction Rin had, still dressed in her very finest—it was likely she had been with the higher ups in the conclave and wanted to impress. Bangles and earrings glinted and her heels made her nearly a hand span taller than Rin. "Although that is perhaps unfair. It may be that he cannot help himself due to your…_stature_, Tohsaka."

Before Rin could shoot back a retort, Rottwood said, "Whoever you are, both of you, either state your business or leave."

The look on Luvia's face at _whoever you are_ was enough to make Rin's day.

"Rin Tohsaka, Department of Mineralogy." She watched Rottwood carefully for a reaction—as the conclave had made her something of a household name at least for the next few days and weeks. "I wanted to know if anybody out of the ordinary has inquired about relics suitable for the Heaven's Feel ritual."

Still, the man did not look up. He shifted through a few papers and discarded them. "Not as far as I know. Rolland would know more."

Even with his perfect poker face, Rin knew there was something else there. Part of it came from the automatic response. Many departments had been stonewalling her since the situation with the Grail system had become known. The higher-ups were observing her carefully, seeing how she reacted, a lab mouse in a maze.

She simply watched back, waiting for the right moment to jump up and bite them. "Can't you make a check on your archive to see activity in the last few weeks?"

Finally, the man looked up at them, as if surprised they were still there. Rin had the strongest urge to pop him right in the nose. "If I do, will you stop pestering me and let me work?"

Luvia said, "That depends on how fast you are."

With a much put-upon sigh, Rottwood moved a stack of parchment aside, manipulated something atop the desk, and a screen resembling a transparency projector appeared in the empty space. With a control like a small steering wheel to a car, he scrolled through a bunch of text. "Nothing in the past four weeks out of the ordinary," he reported.

"Can I get a printout of that?" Rin asked.

"I can't give you information about the things we keep recorded here, or this office would become obsolete. I can give you a list of names related to access." He paused and looked annoyed. "Even though I'm not supposed to do that."

Rin nodded. "That would be fine, and then I'll get out of your hair."

He did as suggested, another device nearby scribbling out the relevant information. Rin could not help but sigh wistfully—the jeweled printer was even a Tohsaka invention, yet despite the patents most of the magi that had need of such a device already owned one, so she saw very little in terms of revenue from it anymore.

Record gathered, Rin gave a curt bow to the man that completely ignored her again and marched back down the hall. Luvia followed.

"Only two names besides the guys that work there have checked anything out, and they're pretty regular visitors and completely unrelated resources," Rin confirmed. She let out a long sigh. "Guess I'll have to let Sir-Stick-Up-His-Butt know that was worthless." Still, she frowned over what she had learned.

"Troubling, is it not?" Luvia said.

"He was keeping _something_ hidden, I just can't tell what," Rin said.

"Rin Tohsaka is in the dark. Certainly a momentous occasion."

Shoulders slumping, Rin looked to the blonde, absolute resignation in her gaze. "Am I going to put up with this the entire way?"

"Well certainly. It was you who said that the Holy Grail was tainted by a madness three generations ago. If such a thing is true and my family was denied the chance for glory by not merely the failings of your snake-blooded ancestors—"

Rin's eyes glazed over as they often did when Luvia began a soliloquy.

"—the current head of the Edelfelt is justifiably entitled to rectifying that mistake. Especially if it means putting your family in its place for the evils it unknowingly unleashed upon the world."

"So, that's how they're describing it now that I'm gone?"

Not for the first time—but certainly not a common thing—Luvia gave the Japanese witch what amounted to a sympathetic look. Still clouded behind a high chin and imperious sniff, but the harshness did not quite reach Luvia's eyes. "No. Yggdmillennia calls it a failed experiment that should be dissected and reassembled elsewhere for a better chance of success. The Fatones are claiming that it is merely due to the barbaric practices of the magi involved. A mere second generation claimed you should be tossed for failing to procure it yourself when you had the chance." The blonde magus paused. "Actually, he might have some potential, that one."

"Funny." The soles of her shoes and Luvia's heels clicked through the halls, reminding Rin of her only solace. A few more hours and she would be clear of all the behind-the-back talk for a while.

Of course, she would be trading it for a situation that may be the death of her, but that was beside the point.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Requisitions was empty.

The minute Waver set foot within the room, he knew what had and was to happen. Despite nothing out of the ordinary. Despite the desk with everything in place and nothing amiss. Despite the files about the shelves stacked just so. Despite the late hour, a time when Rottwood or Storr should have already turned in regardless. An old grandfather clock behind the desk ticked away past eleven.

Rin Tohsaka had reported nothing of use from them, yet Waver wanted to follow up on her suspicions. With the Japanese witch already on her way home, it was left to him to do so—meaning he brought someone with him to do all the boring work.

"Sir?" Avin Aurelis followed Waver into the room and looked at the professor's expression with confusion. Avin was Waver's current "apprentice" in that he mostly did Waver's gopher chores—cheerfully, however, despite the disparity in their lineage.

"Get the archive up, tell me the last item checked out," Waver said. He already had a phone in hand, flicking through a list of names.

Like many things in the Clock Tower, the archive might resemble a computer if examined closely enough. It stored information recorded on paper and scanned via a device that looked suspiciously like a living eyeball on a crane arm. Information could be brought up and projected back onto the desk through the same eye. Avin activated the archive and had it view the last few lines of data it had recorded in its recent past. The young man frowned at the findings. "It doesn't list specifics, just 'fragments.'"

Waver had the phone up to his ear. "Location?"

"Wales. Near Cornwall."

Waver turned his back to the room, already heading out. He spoke into his mobile. "Looks like you will want to make that contact with the Church as planned. We're already looking at possible takers. How close is Tristan Rottwood or Rolland Storr to the Barthomeloi family?"

The voice on the other end took a moment to answer, then said, "Storr was a researcher for the previous head of house some years back."

"Set up as planned. I'll be there shortly. Fire away if you see trouble." He pocketed the phone without any preamble and looked over his shoulder to where Avin followed. "Use my office and get me a ticket to Japan for tomorrow morning."

Avin's eyes widened. "Me, sir? Isn't—"

Without breaking stride, Waver had the silvery vial of his Mystic Code out and uncorked. "She's going to be busy."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Beneath Mount Enzou and a city dusted with white, it stirred.

It had dreamed of its own birth.

It desired its own birth.

For its dreams and desires, it sought out seven that could make it come true.

With the power still cycling through the system, with the instability created by unused energy, it had a chance. It reached for that chance.

All the Evils of the World sought Heaven's Feel once more.


	3. Chapter 2: My Fate, Thy Sword

Canonical information (Character Materials III): Ten years after the fifth war in a battle that is of the scope of a Holy Grail War, Waver Velvet, with the help of the Tohsaka heir, dismantles the Greater Grail for good.

I don't really want to call this a "6th War" fic. If you're here because you think there's gonna be a ton of Servant battles, you'll be disappointed.

Title and thematic components highly inspired by both the _Fate/Zero_ anime OP by Kalafina, "To the beginning" as well as Unlimited Translation Works' particular take on the line _sonna hito no kokoro no _(lit. "the hearts of such people [who are sad]") rendered as "the hearts of the suffering." Also I had a hard time listening to it, watch the ending to the anime/read the ending to the novel, and not think, "How very hopeful of you, Madotsugu."

Meaning if you think this story ends up very Madoka-series-like, I can't exactly deny it.

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

"_**My Fate, Thy Sword"**_

* * *

Barthomelloi. The Blue Bloods of the Association. True Aristocrats.

The family head did not care about the ritual in Japan in and of itself. The only attention she paid it was theoretical: if an Apostle were to bring itself to be interested, she would be interested.

However, it is not to be said that the family was completely disconnected from the society from which is reigned supreme. Many years before, the head of the family had granted the use of their leyline to the head of the Archibald family.

It is unusual for a magus to be able to summon a Heroic Spirit for use in the Holy Grail War beyond the boundaries of the Fuyuki leyline. The Einzbern were known to be the only ones capable—they had a direct hand in creating the system. No others dared risk it—if their connection to Fuyuki was not strong enough, the Grail would not intervene on their behalf and the ritual, which is normally impossible without the Grail, would fail.

Unless one can dominate the lands by which the system works.

It was still a gamble. Unless one was a Barthomelloi themselves, they could not guarantee that the Fuyuki leyline would sublimate to the leyline located in London.

The payoff, however, could work to a Master's advantage.

Rolland Storr had worked under the Barthomelloi once upon a time, had, alongside them, hunted down a Dead Apostle Ancestor. It was where his interest in artifacts had grown after discovering the lair the Apostle had called its territory, full of any number of items a spiritual medium would give a limb to possess. As he was the lesser child to a family with no Crest, it was like opening up a world of possibilities, a future of power even his older brother would never know.

And this, the summation of his relationship with the strongest family of magi and the love that he had come to know.

He finished the circle—made up not of his blood, but the preserved blood of dragon spawn. It was his other tool to overcome the chances that the ritual would fail—to use all of his summoning tools in relation to the one he wished for, not just the catalyst. Even the location provided to him by the Barthomelloi family was fortuitous: he stood where the priory housing the Knights Hospitallers once existed.

"Predictable. Why does everyone think the Saber-class is the best thing ever?"

Lord El-Melloi II. He was still some distance off, strolling down the street as if on a late-night walk. He was shadowed by the silver form of his Mystic Code.

Rolland knew it would come down to this. When El-Melloi had spoken in favor of the Tohsaka regarding the direction of the Heaven's Feel ritual, he had a feeling deep within that they would come to blows.

Thankfully, he had also read the reports of the magi that had controlled information during the Fourth. Combat was not El-Melloi's forte. He was ready.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Clerkenwell was a relatively short distance from the Clock Tower to a magus—especially one like Waver.

Historically, the Barthomelloi leyline was the reason why the Knights Hospitallers set up where they did: leylines were places that made spiritual healing for locals much more potent. Despite the fact that faith healing was unrelated to magecraft, the natural placebo effect that came with the area made it easier for victims to be cleansed. In the history of the Association and the Church, it was one of the few times the Association had allowed a Church order upon soil they directly controlled, for reasons unknown and unrecorded.

Now St. John's Gate stood as a fake reminder of what used to be, an attempt to evoke the same old-world feel that the Barthomelloi leyline exemplified.

"If a guy with a hard-on for old stuff wants to risk an attempt to summon a knight-class in England, you'd find him at the point where the best leyline converges with a museum for knights." Waver rolled his eyes. "Plus, as I found out later, this is where Kayneth drew his card. Only natural I'd think of this place."

Instead of slinking off into the shadows, Rolland Storr took a step out onto the avenue and faced Waver directly. He was a few years younger than Waver but had aged earlier, hairline receding and gravity bringing a hunch to his shoulders. Even so, Waver knew the man to have something dangerous prepared—his talents as a magus far surpassed Waver's own.

The area was clear. No pedestrians. Between the late hour and the boundary field Waver had detected half a kilometer out, the area must have been vacated from prying eyes. The three-story building owned by the Barthomelloi stood behind Rolland: his summoning circle was partially on the sidewalk, partially on the street—a particular location certainly due to some obscure bit of knowledge the magus held. Waver stopped himself just shy of a block away when his maid golem made a watery musical note. A second field lay just past his feet.

Giving Volumen Hydragyrum a human form was not the only thing Waver had improved. It also had basic—if sometimes inadequate—ways to communicate with its simple intelligence. As a detector, it worked so much more efficiently than for him to figure out his own pitiful way to find magical signatures.

Unfortunately, he still had a few deficiencies to work out. Including how long the golem could exert itself.

"Three minutes," Rolland said. "My magical energy spikes in three minutes, so you have three minutes to try and persuade me."

"Persuade you?" Waver looked at him funny. "Huh, I never thought you were that sort of type."

Rolland scowled, almost a mirror image to Waver's natural expression. "Go ahead, make jokes. Two-and-a-half."

"No, see, I can't really persuade. I have two settings because all you talented types of the Association don't really leave me with many options. Mercury isn't exactly the safest weaponized agent." Waver motioned to Volumen Hydragyrum, who remained still at his side. "I've only ever used her in battle once, but I was very, very successful at it."

"Battle against who?"

Waver's expression might have, for a fraction of a second, appeared amused. "Exactly."

A deep-as-the-bones sigh. "One minute. Are you just going to talk away with nonsense?"

"Oh, no, I don't attack first. That would be unfair." Waver's chin went up. "Until you prove you have the guts to face me, you aren't worthy of seeing my actions." His eyes flickered away once. "Besides, you won't get to your summoning at this point."

A loud _crack_ echoed down the empty avenue. A splinter of wood resting to one side of the summoning circle behind Rolland seemed to explode along with a large portion of the pavement beneath it.

Rolland startled but had his wits about him fast enough and looked around for the source of the gunshot.

"You wouldn't have liked having a Servant anyway," Waver said, nonchalantly. "All they do is bend your ear about conquering the world."

Waver's maid chimed another warning; unnecessarily, as even Waver could feel the shift in the boundary field before him.

"_Avnas, excieo!_"

A swirl of wind buffeted Waver's face, flipping his hair and jacked up behind him. He squinted into the torrent to see the figure that formed to Rolland's side.

If Church Executors had been there, they might have exploded in unadulterated rage.

Wreathed in flame, it looked vaguely human. It stood a meter taller than the tallest man, naked but sexless—although there was a definite feeling that it was a _he_. Its skin crackled as if made of embers and green eyes glared out from beyond the haze of heat.

An unfair combination of demon and wraith. It was not a demon, yet it was—conjured from a wraith, not unlike Servants of Grail Wars past given a container it was not meant for.

Truly an annoyance—and not even appearing from the summoner's circle, simply appearing as if from thin air. This was Rolland's specialty, a spiritual familiar given enough power to manifest physically. It was beyond his known capacity, however, quite possibly due to the focus of the leyline that was beneath their feet.

"One last chance to go away," Rolland said. "You aren't marked, you used up your chance. I will have mine."

It was a meaningless gesture and they both knew it. Once they stepped onto their path, a magus was incapable of so simply walking away, especially if their life was on the line.

Waver's expression did not change, nor did he even remove his hands from his jacket pockets. "To the abyss with you."

A flaming arm came down.

The silver maid next to Waver elongated, arms retracting away and neck extending like a serpent. The silvery face shot up and coiled multiple times around the arm before plowing into the ground. The arm diverted away and missed Waver by a meter as the spiral made by the mercury hardened and channeled the blow to where the Mystic Code's feet still remained on the pavement.

Rolland was moving laterally, attempting to flank Waver. "_Convertimini ad cinerem_."

The giant opened its mouth and spat flames, the heat-haze great enough to distort the air all around them. Volumen Hydragyrum leapt out from its own center, forming a concave shield around its owner to protect it from the blast of heat. It angled the shield to the side, and warmth visibly washed over Rolland, who held up an arm to shield his face.

"I wouldn't—" Waver began.

"_Convertimini ad—"_

The mage did not manage the rest of his incantation. His legs tripped over themselves and he fell face-first into the pavement, arms barely able to break his fall. There he remained, cringing in pain, gasping for air and clawing at his neck as if his collar was too tight and could be loosened for comfort. Simultaneously, the flaming giant stopped its assault, whatever spirit inhabiting it unable to continue on without commands from its contractor.

Waver motioned for his golem to keep the protection up, then casually stepped over to where Rolland had collapsed. "Mercury fumes. You really should have thought better than conjuring up a spirit of fire." He crouched over the man. "Don't worry, it won't kill you. I don't actually have enough prana to fight indefinitely. All of it will withdraw back into the bottle in a few minutes and you'll be back to normal." He thought about it. "Except by then you'll have blacked out as your cells have a chemical reaction, so normal and unconscious." He thought some more. "Probably some of it will come right out of your pores which might be actually really painful. Fuck, since when did I become the villain?"

The flames of the giant finally snuffed out and cloaked the area back in the dim lighting from street lamps and building lights. Waver eyed the creature as it seemed to shrink in place, its strength of existence fading as the energy its magus had provided it with ran out.

Then blinked as beyond where the giant's head had been, he saw pale silver light from within the Barthomelloi building in an upper-story window.

Rolland choked out a laugh. "Think…I would bet everything…in a duel against _you_?" He coughed, the action curling his body in on itself from pain.

"Yeah, you are smarter than that." Waver pulled his phone out and swished a finger across the screen. "Good thing I didn't bet everything in a duel against you, either." He held the phone up to speak into it. "You seeing this?"

"Second summoner? I'd assume it's Rottwood."

"Same. You have him? At this point, you might want to just take the shot."

"I don't have a visual." The voice at the other end sounded disappointed—with what, Waver could not tell. "I have a fix on his location, but I don't have enough punch to go right through the concrete. They're staying away from the windows."

Waver's curses lit up the datawaves. "My Code is immobilized. I can't reach that position and do anything of use. Get creative."

"You mean desperate." But the noises from the other end of the connection told Waver that something was already in the making. "Breaching the building, stand by."

The perpetual scowl marring Waver's forehead worsened. "_Breaching_? Are you cr—"

In the pale gloom from the partially-obscured moon, the shadow of a figure leapt from a four-story roof across the avenue into the third story window where the light from the summoning circle was growing in power. The _bang bang bang bang_ of gunfire preceded him, shattering the glass before entry.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

"_Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill._

_Five perfect repetitions. Destroy each sigil when—"_

Gunfire and the crash of glass interrupted the solemn words. Torian Rottwood spun to face the din, saw a dark-clad figure do a rolling entry into the room, and reached for the breast pocket of his blazer.

The intruder held a handgun at ready, eyes darting around the room to assess the situation. His eyes were inevitably drawn to the glow from the summoner's circle, then to the man standing before it—

By then, Torian was ready. The words were not difficult to come to mind—he had just uttered them for the summoning. He took the pen-length rod that made up his Mystic Code and slammed it down into the floor. "_Schutz gegen einen heftigen Wind!_"

The Mystic Code Torian used was simple in design. It generated a boundary field made up of elemental power to shield the wielder based on that wielder's own element. For Torian it meant an earthen wall as if the concrete leapt up in defiance of gravity on its own accord. The advantage to his element was it generated stronger protection than the other elements.

Unfortunately, it also created a blind spot between him and his enemy.

"_Trace, on_."

Like the gunfire from before, a loud _bang _sounded against the wall, which shuddered so hard that Torian felt it in his feet. Confusion bloomed in his mind: a mere handgun was not capable of doing that—

Then the shield collapsed, the stone compound falling away as if too brittle and collapsing under its own weight.

The intruder stood in the same space, something shifting from his hand that Torian could not quite catch. From within his jacket, the intruder drew a short sword and stepped forward.

"_Schutz gegen einen heftigen Wind! Den Himmel aufreissen!" _

Another barrier went up, but this time it was followed by a second field that went out from the center of the wall, shooting forward like a high-pressure hose intent on smashing the enemy into the far wall.

If the concrete column was like a hose, the attacker could walk on water. He leapt straight up, his feet only just clearing the charge of masonry and he covered the distance between them faster than Torian could pull the shield up over his head. The sword the man held cut down into the boundary field, which did nothing to halt the progress, the blade chopping a perfect diagonal slash through the wall and horizontal pillar.

Torian backpedaled; his attacker never broke stride. The partial-shield crumbled away and through it, the black-clad man came back up, the pommel of his weapon striking Torian in the solar plexus.

As he fell back and fought the spots forming in his sight, he recognized his attacker. A freelancer from Japan, one who acted without rhyme or reason. He should have been prepared for this.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Torian Rottwood passed out on the cold floor and Shirou Emiya stepped over him to look at the situation.

The summoning circle still radiated a faint light. A splinter of wood rested to one side atop a bier. This magus apparently had some kind of twisted sense of humor, recalling a dead hero to a place with a coffin.

Shirou cursed. The ceremony was already in motion. He briefly considered the ramifications of killing Rottwood to halt the situation, then thought again. The death of someone might act as a catalyst itself and bring something completely unexpected. Too, it might not halt anything—worst case scenario, even without the summoner, the summoned being that the ceremony began to contact would come anyway. Even a Servant without a Master was dangerous in the few seconds or minutes it could stay, assuming it was not an Archer-class with Independent Action and capable of more. No mentioning the fact that the individual Servant spirit itself could simply be a dangerous personality wild card like Gilgamesh.

He looked down at his hand. A bruise had formed there weeks ago—it was his warning that had led Rin into investigating the situation in the first place. He hated the idea that, at least within the system of Angra Mainyu and the Grail, he could even now have a wish.

"Emiya!" Waver Velvet's voice echoed from the street below.

As with everything else when it came to magecraft, the most likely way to overcome one thing was to overwhelm it with an older or more powerful mystery. Gritting his teeth, Shirou kicked the scrap of wood away. No other choice—only one thing to do.

Assuming she would answer.

Assuming she _could_ answer.

Assuming…he even wanted her to answer.

It was unfamiliar. A distant sensation. Many years had passed. Many things had happened.

If it had been a part of his body for ten years, for another ten it was nothing more than a memory growing ever further away. Ever-more-distant. Fitting, one might say. Like a prosthetic owner that had moved on from his lost limb, he had to once more remember the feeling of that limb.

Gold enamel replaced the dull wood at one side of the summoning circle. Shirou moved to the other side.

"_I propose:_

_Thy body is made of my will, my fate is made of thy sword."_

He thought back, tried to remember the cold of a storage shed, the appearance of someone who was little more than a dream at the edge of his mind.

The hammer went down in his mind and he poured all of the energy he could spare into the cycle at his feet.

A voice full of nostalgia answered his call:

"_My sword shall be with you, your fate shall be with me."_

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Light coalesced within the circle to form the Servant Saber.

She remembered that day—a lifetime ago for some, a mere breadth of a moment for her—and kept it fondly within her heart. A lost boy, wounded and scared, but eyes like fire staring up at her as their contract was formed.

Artoria Pendragon looked up now at the one before her, the only one she would have answered to—the only voice she sought before she rested once more, and only knew the sad truth that she faced.

He was taller, much taller than before, a handspan at the very least. He was a dark shadow in the dim lighting, cloaked away, a red scarf the only hint of color to his apparel. That was not the difference that surprised her the most—

Pale hair fell over cold eyes that met her gaze.

"Shi…rou…"

The look he had broke slightly, a barely-perceptible smile gracing the corner of his lips. What issued forth was not in the voice she recalled. "Saber."

A man that resembled Rin Tohsaka's Servant stood before her, and she understood. The words of another king from long ago came to her, and but a start in her lungs kept her from saying them herself.

_I have dreamed a dream, yet now that dream is gone from me._


	4. Chapter 3: The Once and Future King

_**Chapter 3**_

_**The Once and Future King.**_

A passing dream realized, only to be torn down. She would only have answered to his call—had destroyed the Grail of her own will and accepted her fate, but felt that a time may come that she would hear him once more.

Bedivere's words had reassured her, even if they were mere lip service. Finally, for perhaps the first time in her life, she had truly understood one of her followers and their deepest desires—she knew that her loyal knight had sought to give her hope once again. That alone was enough to reach for that dream once more.

Ten years at least separated them. The first time, she was the Servant of a man who seemed to hate all that she stood for and had utilized her as merely a disposable tool on the battlefield. The second time, his son, somehow the direct antithesis of that attitude, unwilling to look past the frail life he perceived. Upon feeling the cold wintery air and the rush of energy from her transference, she was prepared to face a change again—

A gasp was uttered. That strong voice suddenly became unsure.

"Shi…rou…?"

The thoughts certainly ran though her head:

It was not the young man she had known.

It was not the young man she had come to love.

She stared, wide-eyed, at the one who now towered over her.

Black armor. White hair.

This was not the teenage boy that had won the Holy Grail War. This was the Servant that she had once fought, briefly; the Servant that had depleted half of Berserker's lives.

"Saber," the man said, in a voice both foreign and familiar.

It sounded like Shirou.

But it sounded like Archer.

It was an unnerving experience. For Saber, it was mere days since she had seen the Servant of Tohsaka, the cynical man that had rubbed Shirou the wrong way. Mere days since he had held off Berserker so his Master and reluctant allies could escape.

Mere days since she had slashed him, nearly killed him.

Then, it was not a wonder why he had faltered. She had detected it then, the moment of hesitation that had allowed her to maim the Servant in red. At the time, she had thought it was merely a mistake or a concern due to circumstances between the knight and his Master. Talk with Rin afterward suggested otherwise, but by then they were beyond such concerns.

But now, hardly more than two weeks later by her own reckoning, Saber could see it. It was inherent in her experience—she had named many knights to the Round Table that had greatness within them, had perceived the paths that many would take to make their lands prosperous for a time, even seen the bonds and relationships formed between brothers-at-arms before they occurred. Now that she saw the space of ten years difference, all in an instant, she understood.

Perhaps it was even so only because she now accepted what had come to pass with her own country—the inevitable conclusion that she could take some small amount of pride in.

"We have a situation," Shirou said, the corners of his mouth quirking up to a self-aware sneer. He sheathed some kind of sword that Saber had no understanding of—it looked nothing like swords of her time, appeared modern in make—and picked up a discarded firearm from the floor.

"I see," Saber said, looking around. The room she found herself in was dimly lit and macabre, with funereal items to one side of the spell circle and the scent of rotting paper and dusty tomes. A man lay unconscious nearby and the signs of a short, destructive battle that tore up the undecorated concrete floor suggested an interesting story. "I would imagine there is much to tell."

The white-haired man looked ready to explain some things, but a rather shrill, nasal voice interrupted through the broken window to the far side of the room. "Emiya, if you failed and I'm going to die because a Servant got summoned, I'll live long enough to stomp on your balls!"

Shirou snorted, moving to the window and absently knocking aside the shattered glass in his way. "It's fine. I'll be down in a moment." He stopped, thought for a moment, then asked, "What do you want to do with them?"

Saber followed over and peeked out to see a man that appeared somewhat familiar to her that she could not quite place. The man below looked down at his own feet where another unconscious form lay. "Yours still alive?"

"Yes."

"I'll call it in. I have some favors that can hold them for a bit." He was already looking through a phone for something.

Shirou said, "Not indefinitely. They could probably escape and try again."

Waver nodded, looked up to meet the freelancer's eyes despite the distance between them. "You prefer we kill them?"

"Just laying out the facts. You're the boss in this."

Even stories down, the professor's voice was as surly as ever. "Maybe they'll grow a brain stem." He turned away and put the phone up to his ear.

"Shirou?"

Deflecting her incoming questions, Shirou held up a scrap of wood retrieved from the bier next to the spell circle. "Out of curiosity, does this look familiar to you?"

Saber blinked at it. "It looks…how did you come by this?"

"Servants are summoned via catalysts, usually." He handed her the shard of wood, no larger than a coaster that went atop furniture. "Items of significance to the one summoned."

Nodding, Saber looked the object over. "It was a specific part of my father's table. The Round Table had only one truly unique place, where the most noble knight would someday sit." A wistful look overcame her. "There was a small mark, yes, here," she pointed to the very edge of the scrap, a distinctive-looking knot in the wood. "Sir Galahad's place."

"So they were after a knight-class. That would have been a disaster." Saber was ready to explode with questions—at least, insofar as she was capable of feeling so, her gaze intent on recording every change that had occurred in him—but Shirou put a hand up to forestall anything further. "I promise, I'll explain what I can to you and you can ask me whatever, but right now, I need you to get outside and guard the guy I was just talking to, Waver Velvet."

"Is another attack imminent?" she asked.

"Unlikely, but possible, and he's currently defenseless. I'll take a quick look around, then pick this guy here up," he prodded the unconscious young man with his toe, "and be down shortly."

Saber did as instructed, still feeling out-of-sorts with what she had stumbled upon. She leapt out the open window onto the street below and quickly realized that she was not in Japan—the summoning had happened elsewhere, which disappointed her in some deep corner of her heart. While she had not expected everything to be identical as before, if she were to hear his call again she thought it would have at least been under recognizable circumstances.

The one called Waver Velvet did a double-take at her appearance but said nothing about it, muttering about how the situation could be worse. He had her help bind the unconscious man while keeping a lookout, the street eerily quiet and bereft of foot traffic or even the sound of nearby vehicles.

Shirou joined them a few minutes later, the other unconscious man in a rescue carry over his shoulder. "You brought a car, right?"

"Only brought a four-seater, one of them is going in the boot," Waver said. "Maybe we'll just leave him there." He shrugged. "I'll go get it."

"Your maid can't do it?"

Waver glared. "Unlike some people I know, I can't fight indefinitely, Emiya."

As the surly magus disappeared from sight to retrieve his vehicle, Saber looked to Shirou curiously. "Your boss?"

"For now." He shook his head at her worried gaze. "He wasn't talking about me. The archive information I have on the former owner of his Mystic Code said he could fight with it for hours on end. Waver has something like eight hours with non-strenuous activity and seven minutes in combat."

Saber frowned. "Many things on the battlefield can change in seven minutes."

"Try telling him that. It's like cracking a stone wall." Shirou glanced up to the broken window. "Harder than that, even."

It was not long for Waver to pull up in what even Saber could tell was a very tiny car. As promised, Waver set about shoving one into the equally tiny trunk.

"Where are we in the first place?" Saber asked as she was led to get into the vehicle.

"London, England" Shirou said. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we have the luxury to take you back around your home country for a tour."

"No," Saber said, taking another look around, "that was not my concern."

Instead, she wondered, just what had brought Shirou so far from his own lands that still related to the tainted Holy Grail.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

The hotel room was nothing fancy, just a basic pair of beds, desk, and small entertainment center affair. One bed had a large suitcase atop it, open, full of various things she recognized as modern field equipment that were similar to what she knew Kiritsugu once used for long-distance observation. The desk had a small computer of some kind on it as well as a disassembled weapon laid out for cleaning. The curtains to the room were drawn closed and a tripod with some kind of device lay against it, ready to be propped up for use.

Shirou set his travel pack down on the empty bed, then smirked when he caught sight of her with her hand half into the fast food bag. She offered him a mock scowl in return. "You were the one that gave it to me."

"And I will regret it eternally, since those hamburgers are garbage." He flung his jacket onto the desk chair, then ran his hand through his hair. The action briefly pulled his white locks back, making his resemblance to Archer even more apparent until his hair fell back down over his forehead. "I'm going to get cleaned up while you eat and pick out something to wear. We'll head to the airport at first light."

Saber nodded absently, already three bites into the burger. She probably would have finished the thing already had his appearance not sent a sensation of anxiety down her spine.

While the shower ran, she finished her food and pulled out another suitcase set halfway beneath one of the beds. She shifted through the clothing in it, outfits for a few different situations—one looked minimalistic for warmer weather and another was heavy wool for a colder location than they were in now—before finding a few sets of women's clothing. She set the outfits flat on the bed just as Shirou finished in the bathroom, the sound of a small motor heralding him back into the room as he gave his chin a quick shave.

Saber regarded him evenly as she pointed out the incongruity of what made up the contents of the suitcase. "These clothes, you could not have had them for yourself. Your lover? Partner?"

For the first time, Saber caught a glimpse of the same curious boy she had come to love in the confused way he looked at her when she brought it up. "No," he said slowly, "I have them for one of the people I sometimes work with. She's petite like you, so they should fit until we can get to a store."

Realizing how it might have sounded, Saber caught herself feeling the rush of blood go to her face. "I do not mean that negatively. Shirou, this is a very strange circumstance, one I did not believe actually would come true. In fact, I thought we destroyed the Grail."

"Yes and no," he said. "We destroyed the pathway the Grail created. The system itself is still present, and that is our final target now."

Saber nodded. "That makes sense. But it does not distract from my initial curiosity."

"No, I don't have a lover."

A mix of emotions welled up within Saber. The immediate sense of relief was overtaken by a strange sadness. Considering their history, she thought it possible that she might now be mirroring feelings he had once upon a time, realizing that she had once forged a path alone, without any kind of companionship on an intimate level. "I do not think you would lie to me, Shirou, but I do want you to understand that it would not upset me if you did. It is only natural to want others in your life."

"Not really what I was thinking about." Shirou pulled the suitcase over to the foot of the bed so he could retrieve a clean set of clothing from it. Belatedly, Saber recognized the fact that he seemed entirely unconcerned about changing in front of her—and somehow, that worried her. "I don't exactly have a lot of social time."

"Surely, Rin or Sakura would have been there for you. I do not imagine they were entirely uninterested."

Shirou laughed. Not a hearty or deep-chested laugh, but at least it was amusing enough for a reaction. "Are we really getting into this now?"

"If it is, as you say, a situation that may pit us against many enemies, I would prefer to understand now, while we do have the luxury of some time. Shirou, you must understand, this is all very overwhelming to take in, and my lack of knowledge is clearly a problem. I want to know what has gone on in your life since we last met, the good and the bad. Perhaps, that is even the only thing I wished to know."

"Trust me, when we meet back up with Rin, I'm sure she'll bend your ear about anything you want. I don't really know what else to tell you. I've only seen the people you know about maybe once every few years for the past nine years."

Saber held up one blouse that was fairly simplistic in design. "Will I meet these…co-workers?"

Shirou slipped the same black breastplate over the clean shirt he put on and nodded. "Get changed and I'll tell you a bit about them and the past few years, I guess."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

They waited in the airport concourse at the designated spot. Saber watched the people pass by and considered the differences twenty years made to a hub for humanity. Certainly everything appeared as foreign as her previous experiences, but even she understood how there were things that shifted entirely.

"Here, try it, you haven't had breakfast yet."

"No way no how, I had frozen yogurt right before my last airplane ride and was sick for three days straight immediately afterward."

"Anything he throws up, you're responsible for."

It also helped to be in different company. Three young adults had met up with Saber and Shirou—apparently not at all a surprise to Shirou. They seemed to be horsing around in an attempt to keep the general excitement of travel and the specific excitement of what they were involving themselves in. The shorter male, Avin, kept trying to get the others to eat seemingly random things, while the taller man, Finbar, tapped his foot impatiently and the woman, Tasmir, kept her gaze sharp on the crowd.

The situation did warrant it. With the lines drawn in the sand, there was a certain fear that Waver's so-called faction within the Clock Tower might be in for a reprisal for going against the conventional stance that prevailed through the Association: that the Holy Grail War still had some potential use, whatever moral problems the Tohsaka had with it. Shirou had explained some of the particulars: that Waver had spirited away the two magi that had attempted summonings and they were being held by his benefactor, Reines El-Melloi, while he had told some of his former students who now resided rather high in the socio-political stratum of the Association to lay low for the next month.

Unfortunately, the idea of reprisals also left them at something of a disadvantage. They did not have numerous allies within the Association to call upon—and Waver did not seem willing to use any of his connections—so it left them with their own personal power. Saber herself factored in there, however, they still had one fairly big issue to address with regards to her status.

Saber did not have a sword.

Call it some kind of karmic fate: she was not a normal Heroic Spirit, did not have the entirety of her legend to draw from, and only qualified as a Saber. She had every skill and experience at her disposal, but the moment she dreamed of only came after she had commanded that her sword be returned to its owner.

In short, she had regained her scabbard but no longer had a sword to place within it.

Guarding over her Master and the others would be a challenge. She could not bring another with her when activating her sheath and had fewer tools by which she could fight with. Shirou had provided her with some options that they would further test out when they had a chance, but for now, there was only her speed and durability as a Servant that they could fully rely upon.

So she kept one eye out on the crowd, watching for any undue scrutiny that came their way. Both helpfully and infuriatingly, Heathrow was an extremely busy place, meaning they did not stand out in the crowd and escape into anonymity could be accomplished, but tracking danger from afar would be virtually impossible.

That was one area Saber began to realize had shifted in the relationship she now had. Somehow inexplicable to even her own instincts and experiences, Shirou managed to further cloak himself within the crowd despite his taller stature and somewhat odd hair. Not once did she spy anyone taking note of him. Counter to this, Shirou managed to keep his own senses tuned in—she knew he was watching the surveillance cameras for any patterns that suggested danger as well.

"If you don't eat something now, you'll be stuck with that junk they give you on the flight," Avin was saying.

"You should listen to your compatriot," Saber said. "If you intend to help your professor with this situation, you are better to be ready to go at a moment's notice. The situation could change and you would be left hungry at an inopportune moment."

She watched for it and was rewarded with Shirou looking at her out of the corner of his eye with that same almost-amused expression. He then said to the students, "Maybe try a breakfast bar or something. I have some in my bag if you need one."

The taller student, Finbar, looked like he would reply, then blinked and looked up toward the rafters. "Here he comes," he said.

Saber noticed Waver Velvet's approach a moment later, the cadence to his walk somehow noticeable even with the morning bustle around them. Once she had time to take in everything—the shock of Shirou's appearance, the situation she found herself in—she had recognized Waver from her time with Irisviel and Kiritsugu: the boy Master of Rider. The change in him seemed almost antithetical to her memories as she had only recalled the child hiding in the shadow of his great Servant. The years certainly changed more than she could have expected.

The surly-looking magus approached, struggling with the weight of his suitcase trailing in hand behind him. He cleared a large cluster of people reading the newspaper and spotted them—along with the three young students that waited with them. Saber glanced at the three, who all sported the same not-so-innocent and expectant looks toward their professor.

For his part, Waver did not miss a beat. "Fuck no."

Saber watched as one of the students, the girl, held out her hand. The other two shoved money into it.

"You said it yourself, you aren't cut out for battle," Finbar said. "We'd rather like to keep our prof around at least until we're graduated."

"And Lady Reines might purge all of your students if she though we were responsible for letting you get killed," Tasmir said.

"She wouldn't," Waver said, although he did not sound terribly convinced of his own words. He rounded on Avin, the student short enough and open enough in emotions that Waver could actually physically intimidate. "You."

The young man gave a cheeky grin despite the way Waver stood over him. "I just ordered four tickets instead of one. Don't worry, you aren't paying for the other three. The class then all voted on the three of us going along."

"You had a meeting outside of class?" Shirou cut in, looking a little surprised.

"Nah, we just texted and stuff like that," Avin said. "Easy for the old fogeys to overlook since they would probably think 'social media' means going out to a movie with someone."

Waver was—well, Saber could not tell exactly, as she thought his muscles tightened and his back went rigid, but his expression did not change at all. "I'm not responsible for you if you get killed or disowned by your families. This isn't a game." He paused for a fraction of a second. "Not that saying it like that will stick in your tiny heads." He looked to Shirou. "And you?"

"I have tickets for later in the day. Probably not a great idea to travel together if something happens."

"Fine." He hefted his suitcase, then looked to his students and their luggage. "Better be full to the brim with your best."

"And J-pop music," Avin said. "Language immersion!"

"If you play it loud enough for me to hear, I will strangle you and leave you in the plane lavatory under the impression that you were into erotic asphyxiation," Waver said.

All three students stopped to try and consider that one. Tasmir shook her head the entire time.

They checked their luggage in, small boundary fields in place to conceal the contents from scanning equipment and security eyes. But as they lined up for security checks, Waver's phone went off with what sounded like a video game BGM.

"Tohsaka?" He growled into the phone after checking the ID on the screen.

"Ah, so we caught you." Luvia Edelfelt's voice sounded pleased. "Can you pass the phone over to Emiya? We haven't been able to contact his."

Scowling, he shoved the device into the taller man's hands with the words, "I'm not your secretary."

Shirou answered, turning aside slightly as some people passed by to jump them in line. Luvia's voice said, "If you may, it would be advisable for you to stay in London for the time being. At least another day."

Shirou frowned. "Why is that?"

Rin Tohsaka's voice cut in. "The short of it is we've found another possible way for someone to Einzbern us if what we've found is right. Enzo Fatone. You need to look at him. In fact, you might be the best option to go after him."

Shirou looked to Waver for confirmation. The professor shrugged, said, "Another professor here in London."

"I think I know the name," Shirou said.

"He's also known as Serpent Sign," Rin said over the phone.

The freelancer nodded. "I see." When he caught Saber looking at him with a tilted head, he nodded again. "I think we can handle it."

"Wait, _we_?"

Waver stole his phone back. "He'll explain it later, okay, bye now," he hung up, then took a place back in line. "If you're staying then you can use my place if you need to. You can turn off the gas while you're at it, because I just remembered I left it on. And turn your own damn phone back on."

Shirou ignored the bite and nodded. "I'll let you know when we're inbound again. Anything else you can tell me about Serpent Sign?"

Waver shook his head. Tasmir spoke up instead. "No affiliation to any of the particular families. He's older, late fifties if I recall correctly. Has interest in prolonging his research just like a lot of others without heirs."

Shirou looked to Saber, then to the magi as they moved up the line. "So long as he doesn't have shed snake skins, I think we'll be alright. Grab my things on the other end, will you?"

"Maybe," Waver said.

"We'll see you shortly, then," Shirou said.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Waver was housed at an estate held by the El-Melloi family, the smallest of their mansions, technically owned by Reines, the girl that had named Waver as the family heir. Reines was herself uninterested in the entire idea of Heaven's Feel but supported Waver's actions insofar as they continued to establish Waver as a political powerhouse within the Association. She did not bat an eyelash when Saber and Shirou showed up at the mansion and dispatched servants and apprentices to look into the whereabouts of Enzo Fatone the Serpent Sign.

"What's the moniker for?" Shirou asked.

"Ah, it is not to be discussed in good company," Reines said. "He has a grotesque survival rate against magi that have wanted their hands on his research. Grotesque because it involves rebirthing his body by means not meant for magi."

She left it at that, promising a dossier on the target within hours. Until then, they were free to use the east wing of the mansion—Waver's offices—as they so desired.

For warriors preparing to face a battlefield, it meant assessing their strength.

As they had done before—mere days ago for Saber, a lifetime ago for Shirou—they sparred with wooden swords after pushing Waver's furniture aside and making a space to move in. Shirou demonstrated that his projection magecraft had moved beyond a single sword and scabbard, producing the shinai needed for their assessment. Saber was pleased, if not a little disconcerted as she watched the process—and imagined the battles necessary to refine his skills to that point.

They tested the waters at first, merely attempting practice strikes and parries, a short series of footwork stances and lunges. Saber had to make minor adjustments to Shirou's longer reach, thought it even a little amusing that he would grow after reaching adulthood. The moment she crossed into his longer reach, it was apparent he felt it necessary to show her that he would not relent if pressed.

She withdrew to a safer distance, multiple steps from striking range, and tried to find her own thoughts in all of this.

It was hardly the same as she remembered. Before, he had been active, attentive, talented enough that even in their short time together, she could perceive his reflexes honing and his awareness expanding. He still needed to figure out his footwork, still needed to refine the instincts he had regarding when to strike and when to wait; nevertheless it had been a positive use of their time. He would never win any competitions on his form, but in a situation of true danger, he would be more prepared.

Prepared for what, she had not known. Apparent now, many strange and dangerous situations.

Although she did not need push herself to full strength, although he would never be able to give her an enduring challenge, he _could_ maneuver her into an impasse. She was not even exactly sure how he did it, but by the time it occurred to her, she realized that every action she took from that point on besides disengaging completely was going to fail at bringing victory. Part of it was from his two-sword style, but much more came from the strange way he seemed to position himself to return her strikes that left what appeared to be openings in his attack pattern. Certainly, she could simply overpower him, charge through his defenses such that her sword slashed right around his blocks, right past his feints, or even right through his swords—but that was not the kind of solution she sought. It was a test of his capacity as a swordsman, not a measure of how much punishment he could sustain.

"And you are not copying the sword form of another?" she asked, almost rhetorically. Even the various histories and myths that she had become aware of through the process that brought her to the current era did not have an answer—the two-sword style wielders in particular did not fight like he did. Diarmuid the Radiant Faced nor Musashi the Kensei nor any other would have emphasized forcing an opponent into a stalemate. To many swordsmen, that would have been a cowardly, dishonorable choice.

"I'd imagine that certain things are stolen from muscle memory elsewhere, but on the whole, no."

It would have been an embarrassment to such swordsmen too, Saber believed. While she could appreciate the fact that it kept him alive, the near-sloppy disregard for basic technique would appall any true fencer. At least, fencing technique. As a _battle_ technique, on the other hand, it was…it fit him very well.

"You could not fight other Heroic Spirits with it," she said. Perhaps she was saying it to reaffirm herself; she was sure he already understood. "At the very least, Lancer and Berserker would find little trouble defeating it." Her voice quieted. "Archer as well."

"Good thing not many of them have been running around the past few years," he said, as if the reminder of the knight in red was enough to bring what was similar to the forefront.

She frowned, but pushed that away with a quick bark of a laugh. "It might give Gilgamesh problems, however."

When it became clear she was not going to press in for another attack, he leaned back on one leg and set his right sword on his shoulder. "Not any of those around either, thankfully." She thought that such a stance was not entirely idle, however, as it left him exposed in a fashion she believed he could counterattack from fairly well. "I don't particularly plan on engaging Servants, Saber, so you don't have to worry. The plan is to keep them from showing up in the first place. If they are summoned and I end up in a position where I am left to engage them, there are other things you should be berating me for first."

Saber narrowed her eyes, trying to perceive whether he was aiming for sarcasm or not. "I _can_ tell you have fought many others. Strong opponents." She frowned. "I was under the belief that sword fighting had become antiquated, used mostly for aesthetic reasons in modern times. Yet you are prepared for melee."

"Those strong opponents sometimes had strange skills." He shrugged. "And like Servants, it was not good to engage the stronger ones, yeah, but sometimes there weren't any other options. Mostly, I just surprised them enough that I could escape."

"I can see that you are capable of looking after yourself with others of your stature," Saber said. "But let us be clear that you should still stand in support rather than in the front lines. Now, more than ever."

"Believe it or not, I think I was getting the idea even before the final fight last time," Shirou said. "It took me a while to figure out that following the path I wanted to take and becoming capable of what Servants do were not mutually exclusive." He gave her a small grin, one of the few expressions she could recall that matched one from his youth. "You taught me that much."

She looked at him dubiously.

"I'm serious. You saved people just by pulling a sword out of a stone, right?"

"Hmm." Saber still did not lose her unconvinced expression. "Drawing it still meant a path of strife. There were things that I knew I would have to overcome, with power and experience I did not necessarily have to begin with. Taking that path required that I defeat all challenges that came with it. It also meant sacrificing anything else I could to achieve victory."

"The point being that I don't really intend to match up in combat against Servants." The same self-effacing grin came to his lips. "I can't really even match up to some of those in my own career."

"Do not let that block you."

He shook his head, like that was not even a concern. "My world is a small one. I don't exactly have some grand ideas or goals in mind when I set out to do things. I know I can't match you or the other spirits. But your example is something that I can keep in mind."

She thought she picked up on the difference there, what he left unsaid. It was the distinction that she both knew was inevitable, but also had hoped he would not have given up fighting against. _I know I can't save everyone. I can just do the best that I can._

"Shirou," she started, wondering if she even had the words to say what she wanted him to understand. "I do not wish for you to think of me like that. Especially since in the end I could not do much and then let my own failures dictate the choices that led us to meet." She realized how that sounded, and hastened to add, "Not that I am unhappy to have met you or, in the end, would have it any other way now."

"Nice save."

She scowled. "Shall I strike you once more so you understand my resolve?"

"It's a joke." He rolled his eyes and planted the swords at his feet, leaning on them like an old man might a walker. "I still think you sell yourself short with this sort of thing. I don't exactly model myself after you, you know, but I do like to think we have a similar desire in mind. If I am going to learn from someone's example, I'd rather it was from someone who wants that same ending."

"Even if in the end, that ending was not achieved?"

Shirou was silent, but the sincere look in his eyes left Saber feeling a pit of disquiet within her. There, she saw, was the hurdle she stared down and had buckled under. If there was anything she wanted for the man before her, it was for him to not face that same dilemma himself.


	5. Chapter 4: Almost Family

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Almost Family**_

* * *

"He'll explain it later, okay, bye now." The sound on the phone went dead and the screen flashed the message that the call had ended.

Rin pocketed the device, sighing long and hard. "I wonder if he knew how long it took me just to figure out where his number was in this thing."

"You must be joking. He does it _because_ he knows it frustrates people." Luvia brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "Now," her gaze drifted to their feet, "what to do with this one."

The young man there was bound and gagged, glaring up at them with eyes that screamed murder. He kicked his tied-together feet uselessly, doing little but scattering the small amount of snow around his knees and ankles.

Fuyuki's Mount Enzou. Dusted with a couple centimeters of white, the frenzied footprints, uprooted tree and burnt bushes the telltale signs of a battle beyond normal mortal ken, hidden away by the supernatural field that permeated the surrounding landscape. The dimming light of evening also kept them obscured from prying eyes, although the deep reds Rin wore stuck out in the alpine foliage.

Their captive was a magus of skilled-if-not-standout caliber. His name was Crescenzo Fatone, son of a mid-level magus within the Association. A technical heir to his family, only part of the Fatone's crest had been granted to him while his father Enzo continued to research and instruct within the Clock Tower's halls. Now, with the advent of the Heaven's Feel, a simple choice for an ambitious family: send their heir to help with the grunt work that came with overseeing the success of a large-scale ritual. It was all information they could simply follow once they discovered his identity and gave a moment's thought to his familial ties.

Despite the heir being a merely "adequate" opponent, the fight that followed was enough to leave Rin feeling overworked. Partially frustrated with herself for the fight taking more out of her than expected, Waver's manhandling of their phone call just left her wanting to take it out on something. Fortunately for their prisoner, she was not entirely driven by the whims of each and every emotion she felt. "I say we just leave him here. Someone'll come looking when he doesn't report in, right?"

The man's gagged retort sounded something along the lines of "_Britchgh._"

She jabbed him hard in the sternum with her toe. Maybe not _entirely_ driven by her emotions.

"What I meant was what to do with him regarding the information _he_ now possesses on _us_. Due to calling Lord Velvet, he is aware that we have more resources at our disposal." Luvia crossed her arms.

Rin put a hand to her face. Calling had been a knee-jerk reaction as she was certain Waver and Shirou had an early flight and they needed to be on the same page. It had not occurred to her that their captive could hear her. "If we just blank his memory he's gonna notice a difference. Even if he can't figure it out entirely, his superiors will and they'll flush anything we do right out." The spells they had to erase or change memories were limited. For those that lived outside the world of magecraft and mystery, it was a minor discrepancy that could be waved off as a bad dream or hallucination. Living in that world was a different matter.

Luvia gave her a look, the kind that said she was already there and waiting for Rin to catch up.

Meaning smug. She looked smug.

"I'm not…willing to just execute him," Rin said, shifting in place.

"Hmm." Luvia tapped her chin with her fingertip. She peered down at their captive, who glared back up at her. "Crescenzo, correct? I am going to remove the gag. Begin an aria, we will shoot you point-blank, which is enough to pierce right through your skull. Understood?"

The young man's head nodded, slowly, clearly watching for some kind of trap about to spell his doom.

Luvia reached down and undid the binding as promised. "Now then. As you just heard, we know that your father has yet to pass on his Crest; everyone knows how Serpent Sign wants to prolong his own life rather than entrust the research with you."

Crescenzo's eyes tightened at the corners, the only sign of his acknowledgement.

"The one we just spoke with, he's a rather dangerous man. I expect that your father will be dealt with, in one fashion or another. If you swear—under geis, for insurance—to not divulge what you have heard here and tell us as much as you can on the people you've heard that are involved, I will guarantee his holdings are transferred to you."

A long moment. Crescenzo weighed what Luvia had to say carefully, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them. "If your man kills my father, it would come to me anyway."

"Not so. This is a war with different rules than the standard within the Association. My own family has…lost something to another family," Luvia cast Rin a baleful glance, "so there is precedence of the inheritance going to others. Indeed, as you should well know, with Magus Killers, they often lay claim to their target's resources as payment."

Rin tried not to let it show in her expression, but there was something to that statement—and the implication behind it. The freelancer they had just spoken with, well, he certainly wasn't one to claim magecraft research for his bounty.

This one did not know that, however. After another long moment, he snorted in derision. "Would it be too much to ask that I hope your man kills him, then?" He sighed, snow blowing around his face. "Alive, my old man has slithered his way out of it before."

While Luvia nodded and made to release the man and hammer out the details, Rin could not help but shudder at the tone to the young magus' voice. What she had thought was to be a simple bout of information gathering had turned into something that went right for the pit of her stomach.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

The moment Rin had stepped off the bus that brought them into Fuyuki, she had detected the changes in the flow of power. The sense of home was changed—the atmosphere shifted to something she had become familiar to in the intervening years, more like the oppressive weight of what she felt in London. After dropping luggage off at the Tohsaka mansion, they had gone directly to Enzou and poked around the grounds leading to the Grail system.

Little had changed in the decade since the last war, probably due to the natural boundary field that warded people from disturbing the place. No new houses or buildings marred the immediate vicinity and the stairway leading to Ryuudou Temple was the same as it had always been. Despite this, Rin was quick to tell that there was something out of place. Beyond the foliage and hidden from curious eyes, a path leading to the Great Grail system existed—and was the source of Rin's unease.

It became apparent that there were at least five boundary fields set up to block off the undermountain cavern. Woven to both detect intruders, ward spellcasters, and curse anyone that attempted to force their way in. Without at least an hour, it would be impossible to breach safely, and in that time it was clear enough to see that there would be magi sent in response to the intrusion.

While Luvia mapped out the nature of the fields blocking the way, Rin had taken a good half hour to partway circle around the base of the hill, attempting to get a feel for what had transpired upon the lands she oversaw. This process was sped up by some of the gems she had created—byproducts of her current research, they served in place of beakers and measures for an alchemical procedure that one would normally carry out after the fact.

Although she could not be certain, she felt it unlikely that there were magi inside anywhere near the Great Grail. All of the major players were still back in London to argue the point and, unless someone was daring and stupid enough to go against their political backer's wishes, everything ought to be left untouched. Too, she could not detect any magical signatures inside, which should have been evident if there was someone doing research or attempting to assess the system within.

"I was afraid Yggdmillennia might already be inside dismantling it, but I guess the standoff might work to our advantage there, at least." Yggdmillennia was not the only group interested in studying the system on their own terms in their own lands, but they were the most vocal. Not that the Einzberns would ever permit such a thing from happening without a fight. The headache of different families and factions wanting a piece of something that could kill them all was, for once, in her favor. How long it stayed that way, she did not know, but it seemed likely that it would remain in this stalemate until everyone had shifted their forces into the region.

"I do not detect any signatures that mark the work," Luvia said. "A first-rate deployment, but there is nothing here that should be a surprise. I would presume the magi present in the city overseeing security and cleanup were the ones to set it up on general orders from the conclave."

Rin agreed, which led to their next task: attempting to gather information on those already present. Deciding simple and straightforward was their best, their course of action had become clear within the moments of detecting the fields:

Trip the outermost layer of detection wards and grab the first unlucky soul that came to check up on them.

It went both easier and harder than Rin initially thought. On the one hand, the responding magus had appeared within twenty minutes of the detection spell going off, so it meant little waiting around. On the other hand, when attempting to grab him, the spells Luvia used at the same time managed to interfere with Rin's, giving their target an opening to manage a counterattack.

"Burn the oxygen out of the area so he can't breathe? Do you always attempt the most barbaric route?!" Luvia complained after the fact.

"Like freezing him solid and causing hypothermia is any different?!"

"That way he could still communicate! I thought this was about getting information!"

In the end, their opponent's sonic vibrations had shattered a tree trunk with explosive force while nearly blowing their ear drums. A pair of Gandr shots stunned him just long enough for Luvia to close in and knock him out with a suffocating hold.

"Next time, we should just start with that," Rin had grumbled.

They searched around his person for identifying items and found his passport, identifying him as a Fatone. To this, Rin immediately wished to contact Waver and Shirou.

The Fatone family had been vocal at the conclave. Their heir-apparent was already on-site. Their senior and head of the family was known to be obsessed with longevity—it was no stretch to think that, beyond even simply the root purpose of the Holy Grail, he might have an actual wish he wanted fulfilled.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

"We were fortunate it was not a Magus Killer," Luvia said. "We know Enforcers must be present. It is probable that we will not be able to use such a simple ambush again."

"When Grumpy and Dopey get here, hopefully we can put our heads together and figure out better plans."

"The way you say that does not bode well for our combined efforts. You should once more feel fortunate that I am here."

Dusk had given way to full nightfall, beckoning the duo to turn in. With the hours of difference between Japan and England and the fact that they had taken to travel immediately after sitting through part of the conclave, fatigue was quickly becoming an issue. While they wished to be active during the night hours when magi were more likely to be on the move, preparing for work in a location hours different had their internal timing off.

They knew that the Tohsaka house was probably under surveillance and would become a prime target fairly soon, but risked at least a day there to rest and regroup. Rin had some equipment to pick up meanwhile, and there was one matter that she wanted to be observed by those watching.

It was not exactly the return home she could hope for. With the pall of war on the horizon, the ghostly sheets covering all the furniture only reminded her of how hostile everything was to be. It would just be work to make the place look lived in and useable—and they had no time for that. While Luvia figured out food, Rin went through the rooms that they would temporarily inhabit, pulled covers off and cleared dust away, then took to the basement study.

Untouched for three years. In the infrequent visits she had made recently, she had not needed to use the workshop. If anything, Fuyuki had become her vacation home, only a brief stop to unwind from the stresses of London. Now it felt like someone else's place, a location of nostalgia and wistfulness rather than her mundane reality. Research books and tomes of spellwork rotted away, recording devices and beakers gathered dust, a summoning circle left like a shadow on the floor.

She thought of her father, someone she could no longer picture in her mind's eye. She wondered what he would think of her new goal and how it ran antithetical to what he had always sought in himself and in her.

"Tohsaka, your clocks are all an hour off."

Rin sighed, shaking off her reverie. "Urgh." She pitched her voice to carry back up the stairs. "A spell cast on the clocks for when the Holy Grail became active." She could not help but grimace at the reminder of that failure from the last war. "Just fix them if you come across them."

"Do I look like your servant?" Luvia's voice sounded insulted. "Fix your own things, plebeian."

Luvia was another matter. For all their bickering, Luvia had been the first to support Rin's stance on the Heaven's Feel ritual when it came to light that the system had awakened once again. If "support" was the right term.

Rin held no illusions that there was some benefit to the Edelfelt family for doing so. Whether it truly was to clear their name and pride over failure at a botched system, or whether it was to see if there was a way to gain information on the system and the Third Magic, or whether it was some kind of political scheme, Rin was not sure. She even thought it was somewhat reasonable if Luvia was plotting to kill her, taking something from the Tohsaka family as the Tohsaka once did to the Edelfelt.

Not that she would roll over and die for the blonde witch. It was just a reasonable point.

Luvia added, "Tea is ready, by the way. You can thank me for the fine taste, since the stock you keep here is clearly lacking."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

In between bouts of fitful sleep and restless wakefulness, Rin printed out the information they had just to give her organizational mind an easier time. When morning beamed through her bedroom windows, she reluctantly cleaned up, changed to a clean set of clothes, and gathered things up to plan their next move.

Luvia, for her part, annoyingly looked entirely too ready for the day—hair just as poofy as it always was, clothes immaculate despite having been stuffed into a suitcase mere hours before. "You said to remind you to make phone calls in the morning," the blonde said.

Rin nodded and did just that, then made a quick breakfast. Luvia had been awake before her with the promise that she would go shopping for supplies so long as Rin was the one to do the work of preparing it.

Except tea. Luvia seemed convinced that Rin was incapable of making an acceptable cup.

"The stony-faced professor should be here in a few hours," Luvia said as they finished up. "Or sooner, by your clocks." Rin rolled her eyes. "The question being what then? Even with his help and the unlikely indifference of the Fatone heir, we would be overpowered far too quickly if we attempted to break in."

Rin, of course, was the one left to clear the table of dishes. "Our first priority is trying to find out where the centralized base for the Association operatives is, see if we can't subvert them in any fashion. Unfortunately, they're going to be on guard for that, because the second priority is to contact the Church and get information on whether others are attempting summonings. If someone already has a Servant, we can't count on any engagement going our way."

"That was your phone call," Luvia said.

"One of them, yes," Rin said. She settled the different files she had printed off in the place vacated by their breakfast. In hindsight, Rin thought she should have put them on a counter or table elsewhere: here in her living room, somehow, Luvia had claimed the couch and was lounging on it like it was her personal space. "I haven't heard back from who I need to yet. The stand-in priest is unrelated to the Grail War and for whatever reason, Caren was out of town. She is due back in tomorrow."

"Strange that the overseer would be absent when the system restarts."

Rin shrugged. "I thought it was over, too. From what Shirou described, it sounded like he destroyed it. I didn't think about the fact that he was only sealing the opening, not wrecking the ritual devices."

Luvia looked ready to launch into another Rin-made-a-mistake triade, then seemed to settle on ignoring it. Rin hoped she was getting tired of that jab. "Then we should look after the church ourselves? If the magi present know the overseer could present helpful information…"

"I actually doubt that. First, I think they would view it as hostile territory right now, since the church is already in on the knowledge that this is a device of magic rather than divinity. They also don't know the identity of the overseers or how involved the 8th Assembly might be. I think, for the time being, they will treat it with more caution than they will treat us, at least." Rin spread the files out and arranged them into columns related to the level of information she had on them.

Luvia eyed it with mild disinterest. "You seem to be drawing us into a corner. We cannot make a direct attack. We cannot strike at potential summoners quite yet. We do not know the location or status of any in the country at the moment either. The Association watchdogs are at an unknown location and outnumber us in any case. Unless you intend to make a summoning yourself, what options are there?" She frowned. "I should have asked that Fatone boy where the Association overseers were being deployed from."

She made it sound like an offhand comment, but Rin knew that Luvia was prying over Rin's status as a potential Master. She shook her head. "I don't intend to summon anything—I honestly don't think it would be wise." Beyond that, deep within her heart and mind, she thought there was another reason for that as well: if, on the chance she got the one she had before, what truths she wanted to ignore would be revealed to her.

That was not exactly the future she envisioned for herself or anyone else.

"And what, then, shields us from being overwhelmed?" Luvia asked.

"Well, I'm working on that. Hopefully some insurance should be here soon." She went about marking each paper in turn, a simple mnemonic device to help her remember everything.

"Ah, schoolwork, like the eternal student you are."

"Just laying it out," Rin said. Actually, for Luvia, that might have been a compliment. "I work better when I have everything in order." After tracing over names, she pulled out the jewel she had kept in her pocket when they had interrogated the Fatone boy. "And the new bits of info we have."

The jewel wrote out the words Crescenzo had spoken to it, bits of information he had heard and those involved in the situation as he knew it. That, she added to her own notes.

Einzbern, Matou, obviously. The names they had discovered directly: Rottwood, Storr, Fatone. The names Luvia had mentioned paying special attention at the conclave in Einon, Forvedge, and Fatone again. Crescenzo's interrogation had given up Frain and Berzinsky.

Rottwood and Storr were the ones that Waver and Shirou had apparently fought back in London. Storr in particular was a fairly dangerous adversary, a 6th generation family head and master summoner. Although they were incapacitated, Storr's influence reached all the way to the Barthomelloi—unless they were killed, Rin thought it best to not write them off just yet.

Einzbern. The family still most determined to see the completion of the ritual.

Enzo Fatone, the one called Serpent Sign. An 7th generation family head, a fair bit older and more experienced than most of the others Rin knew to be interested in the Grail. His heir, Crescenzo was the one they caught responding to the boundary field intrusion. The frustrating matter was that while Crescenzo's own involvement implied Enzo's interest, the elder Fatone's thoughts were his own and went unshared with their source of information.

Einon. An 8th generation family and said by Waver to be the one he's most concerned about. Their head, Johanne, was ambitious, skilled, and popular and is viewed as a rising star within the traditionalists of the Tower. Crescenzo had also heard of their involvement, as a freelancer often hired by the family was among those already present in Fuyuki.

Forvedge. Big-wigs in the Yggdmillennia faction. Fiore is nominally the faction's leader and a magus regarded as first class. She had been present at the conclave.

Frain. Also Yggdmillennia. One of the family members, Roche, was responsible for the main taskforce of muscle the Association had at their disposal; dolls suited for both combat and to act as containment screens. Cresenzo had said they were getting ready to deploy them as sentinels to guard the Great Grail cavern.

Berzinsky. Called "Concerto," a dangerous 5th generation genius and evocation master with a nonstandard alignment. His whereabouts were unknown, but Cresenzo had mentioned his name being passed around.

The last she knew of—

There was a ring from the doorbell.

Rin looked up to Luvia and caught the woman glaring back at her, as if daring Rin to suggest she be the one to answer. Rin rolled her eyes. "I'll get it."

Honestly, she felt she should in the first place. This was a delicate thing she would be attempting, so she needed to just get the awkwardness out of the way as fast as she could.

Sakura Matou.

Rin had last seen Sakura about two years prior. As things at the Association became more and more tense while the higher-ups alternatively juggled away her promotion and breathed down her neck regarding her research, Rin had less and less time to return home—when she had first started, it had been once every three or four months. Now there were yearly gaps, and not every time did she manage to figure out an excuse to look in on the younger woman.

She had spoken to the timid girl over the phone, able to compose herself with the distance. But as she opened the door, Rin was struck by the surprising enormity of what she was about to do.

"Tohsaka-senpai," Sakura said, bowing.

Rin stepped aside to let her guest in. It was a somewhat unnerving sensation that shot up her spine when she noted how they both kept their hair in a similar half-up style, with the only difference being the way Rin's hair became wavy at the ends. Sadly, she had reached an age where she must have outgrown ribbons in her hair, as there was no sign of the accessory that Rin could make out from a kilometer off.

"Sorry to call you over so early," Rin said, and she was. Doubly sorry for the duplicity, even if what she intended was not exactly harmful to Sakura personally. "There is something I must discuss with you in person, if that's alright."

"Okay," she said, taking the offered slippers and following Rin into the house. Anxiously, with shuffling footsteps.

Rin motioned the girl over to where Luvia sat—the foreign magus sat up in the presence of a guest, at least—and gave a quick introduction. "Luvia Edelfelt. Sakura Matou. I'm just going to get this over with now, because it's just going to go this way no matter how we swing it." Rin steeled herself. "Sakura, do you have the mark?"

Sakura's eyes went wide, then narrowed in worry. "Um…"

"Yes or no."

The visitor glanced to Luvia, who merely stared back, poker-faced. Realizing she would be gaining no help, she sighed. "No. You can check, I suppose." She started to roll up the sleeve of her blouse.

Rin shrugged. "It's fine if you tell me. The other question is, do you know whether your grandfather does?"

Again, Sakura's eyes went wide, this time staying so. "I'm…not sure."

"Fine. I take it from your reaction that, at the very least, he is aware of what's going on. The Matou family _was_ called to the conclave. Not that I expected you to come, but with Shinji gone, I figured you must have been told what is going on."

"I was." Her eyes went down.

Rin crossed her arms, trying her best to get all of this out as succinctly as she could. "After everything that happened before, and what you've probably either been told or figured out on your own, I thought we needed to get this in the clear as soon as possible. Shinji died because of the last Holy Grail War. Ultimately, for nothing. This whole situation, the entire system, it only remains as a farce. I don't expect you to understand completely or even trust me, but it's what I'm staying with. We're here to disable the system. I'm ready to step over whoever I need to for that purpose. I would rather your help than your hindrance, and right now, just by being here, you are helping me, so I'm going to ask you for more."

Both Luvia and Sakura appeared more and more confused the more Rin continued, Luvia even raising her eyebrows to the last. "Helping now?" the blonde asked.

"We're probably under observation right now. Even if you don't know or refuse to tell me if you do know what Zouken might be up to, that's not really important," Rin said, staring Sakura down. "Your family is one of the founders of this whole thing. It was a no-show when the Association called. You're meeting with us right now. There's enough there for observers to start questioning what is happening, and because they have no info on you at the moment, they're going to be extra cautious."

Sakura blinked at her.

"It probably puts you under some danger. So be it. You're a big girl, and ultimately, that's why I'm here." Rin looked away, finally, peering out the living room window to the city beyond. "If this thing goes active like before, if seven are summoned and destroyed, we've got a catastrophe in the making and everyone will be in danger anyway. Might as well lay it out for you now."

"Uh," Luvia said, clearly looking beside herself, "Even I see that you are just blindsiding her. How typical. You should treat your guests with a little more delicacy before destroying their everyday lives."

Whether it was a joke or not, Rin could not really tell, but she glared all the same. "Hey, if you'd prefer we all make nice and dance around the issue, that's fine, but I'm already breaking a rule just by inviting her here. Might as well go all the way into the red if I'm that willing."

"Breaking a rule?" Luvia scoffed. "Who dictates the rules but yourself? I think—"

"Um," Sakura broke her silence, eyeing both women as they started to inch closer toward one another like gladiatorial contestants. "It…it's fine, actually, Edelfelt-san. I expected something like this when I came here."

Luvia looked dubious. "Is it? I can tell you are no true magus, which is fine, but if you are not meant to be in this world, I think it is better to stay that way."

"I don't suppose you were here ten years ago?" Sakura asked.

"No, although I considered it. I had obligations elsewhere, however."

Sakura pursed her lips, her eyes glazing over a little as she thought back. "A lot of things happened then, and at the time I was content to pretend it was not something I had to involve myself in. But it also left me cut off from some things, and some people, including my family." She sighed, then leaned back in the chair she had taken. "I don't want that, at the very least, and if a terrible day is coming as Tohsaka-san says, then I wanted to know." She gave a weak smile. "It is just quite a bit to take in."

"Listen," Rin said, "I don't expect you to be a spy for me, or anything, but if possible it would be nice to have another set of eyes and ears." Shoulders slumping, Rin let her defenses fall and looked away. "I know you must have some mixed feelings about being here, but I don't really have any other choice but to call in any help I can. It's beyond me to get this done, and I don't think anyone would forgive me if the world does happen to end and I could have prevented it by dragging out anybody I could."

Sakura nodded, slowly, looking around the room as if taking it in for the first time.

"Actually, that brings up a question I have had," Luvia said.

"Why is Lord Angryface helping so much, anyway?" Rin smirked. It was one of the few things she truly had considered before all of this. "I can't imagine he cares a ton about whether the ritual is carried out or not. In fact, it would not surprise me if Reines was against him sticking his neck out like this. Or not participating himself."

"He undoubtedly has an ulterior motive," Luvia said.

Rin rolled her eyes. "Like you don't."

"My motives are as I said. You should be grateful for the assistance of the Edelfelt family."

Once more, Sakura watched them as if viewing a tennis game. "Lord Angryface?"

Rin shook her head. "I'll try and explain to you some of the few people on our side, if you're really in for it."

Sakura already had her hands on one of the files on the coffee table. "And these are…magi that oppose you?"

"Got it in one. Although it is doubtful that they would have been noticed, if anything there sticks out to you, it might be a lead we can get on." Nervousness now crept back up on Rin as she decided to breach the next subject. "Shirou is after one of them."

It did not surprise Rin, the way Sakura reacted—the sadness that shot through her eyes at his mention. "I see," Sakura said.

Still, it was something that still hurt Rin even as she expected it. It was about all she could dump on the younger woman—even with the elephant in the room still staring them down. Yet another person that, ultimately, could have it in for the Tohsaka family. Rin in particular.

"Couldn't you just shut up about the guy?" Luvia said. "It's like you enjoy rubbing him into other people's faces."

"It's okay," Sakura said, eyeing Rin as if to thwart an incoming rejoinder. "About this angry person you were talking about…?"

"Oh, yes. Professor Velvet," Luvia started.

Rin let herself fall back into a chair, picking up one of the files to conceal her face as her thoughts continued to come together. Even if Sakura was supportive, they still had nothing on Zouken Matou. Considering his unknown quality, if anything, Rin might have just invited a walking time bomb into her fold.


	6. Chapter 5: Apocrypha

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Apocrypha**_

* * *

It was not the triumphant return that they made it out to be.

For Waver, returning to the place he both loved and loathed brought a sense of overwhelming conflict. The first place he belonged to something he believed in. The first place where he tasted true defeat. A country of extremes that he never got over, actually importing their entertainment, yet hating the disparity between what they did and what they wanted—much like the Association.

In short, Waver had long ago decided that all magi were masochists, which meant they all should have a strong affinity for this Far Eastern country and its masochistic existence.

The plane trip itself was long, uneventful, and boring as hell, as the in-flight entertainment was some kids movies and Waver had not thought to bring his own games to a potential death match. His three students meanwhile alternated between excited chatter and bored lethargy. Waver watched with some perspective—his own trip had been excitement the entire way, but he had done so to be a competitor in a tournament, not as he was now as a scientist trying to prevent global catastrophe.

When they touched down at the Narita airport, his restless mood only intensified with the familiar sights and sounds of a completely foreign nation—the bowing, the character alphabet on signs, the endless sea of black-haired heads. Kids sometimes gave Waver and some of the other non-Asians strange looks, although none seemed ready to approach as he looked like a professional in business attire and glared each time they made eye contact.

Irritably, he waited as Avin went to check out the super-toilet in the first bathroom they came across while Finbar found something other than plane fare to eat.

"Has it changed much?" Tasmir asked.

"No, still terrible," Waver said, arms crossed, tapping a finger on his elbow. He was also feeling up for a smoke but had left his cigars deep in his luggage. He absolutely refused to resort to smoking something from a vending machine.

"Terrible how?"

The elder magus sighed, head lulling to one side as if he could drift off to sleep while still vertical. "You're not weeding anything else out about the last time I was here, so drop it. Get your mind in the game—that goes for the other two as well—or I'm shoving you into a crate and sending you ground-shipping back to London."

She frowned at her professor, but it was not a petulant expression. It was closer in resemblance to a board game player that was reassessing their strategy.

Waver returned his gaze back to the newscast being played out on a television screen near one of the airport cafes. He knew it was an attack in the making. He had been mentally preparing for it the moment the trio of students had shown up to go with him. They would work up a front, get knocked down, then individually try to weasel information out of him. He had been certain Tasmir would be first, as she was probably the sharpest and mentally prepared for the attempt. He knew simply from the classes he held—she was normally a much more involved-in-her-work type and in class often did the minimal amount of socializing to get by. Even in the short time since Heathrow she mostly let the boys do the chatting.

However, it was different to the way the Servant of Emiya seemed to spit out two syllables only when pressed. Tasmir seemed to restrain herself from saying much more than she did and waited instead for the perfect moment to bomb someone with a devastating statement. Waver thought her terribly female. Emphasis on terrible.

"You're the one with their mind out of the game," she said. "If it were completely, wouldn't that mean you had a wish?"

Almost involuntarily, Waver looked down to where his unmarked hand rested cradled to his chest. He could almost remember what the mark there had looked like all those years ago. "I have plenty of wishes. Like peace and quiet for five minutes."

"Slap my ass and call me Betsy, this toilet thing is awesome," Avin said, wandering out of the restroom looking entirely pleased.

"My wishes just never get fulfilled," Waver said, eyeing his student aid like he was the coming of the apocalypse. "Are we finished here?"

They met back up with Finbar at the baggage claim, easily spotting the man with his height and blonde hair amidst the Asian crowd. He handed them all small tins of sushi while they waited—and they were all nearly finished by the time they had all retrieved their belongings.

"Ugh, jet lag," Finbar said as they followed a mass of people to the train line that would take them out of the airport. The attached station would take them into Tokyo, and from there they would have to take a train or bus out to Fuyuki. Although simple spells made them basically fluent in Japanese, the general business and alien appearance was just enough to be a little overwhelming. Particularly to three young people that had only slept the bare minimum during the plane ride.

Not that Waver could blame them. His own trip had been like that the first time—and he didn't even have others to bounce excitement off of. The feeling of being cut off from the Clock Tower and its hierarchy of rules was liberating to the point of manic energy, even if their situations did not resemble his own.

The other shoe would eventually drop, however, and bring them back down. Hopefully it would not involve robbing a library.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Waver found himself more and more annoyed with his students. For an entirely unexpected reason.

Perhaps it was that hindsight look into what his experience had been. Perhaps it was the comparison of differences. Perhaps he was just feeling his age.

When he had first come to Japan, he was easily caught up in the traffic of people as they went about their travels from the airport to the various stations. Slight in size and dark haired, he had not seemed different enough for the crowds around him to treat him differently than their own. His one and only train ride had been an uncomfortable affair and he had made a point to take a bus and taxi on the way back when he had left the country.

Between tall-and-blonde Finbar and darkly-exotic Tasmir, the crowds were giving them a fairly wide berth to accommodate their obviously-foreign status. Possibly aided by their businesslike attitude, everyone seemed to leave them completely alone. The people around them in the train carriage kept a good amount of distance from them, just enough that it was marginally more than simple politeness.

"I think they're afraid of you," Avin said in English. Apparently Waver was not the only one to notice.

"Hey, besides the hair and height, I made sure to try and wear something non-assuming here," Finbar said. His button-up and slacks did fit in with the salaryman workers that made up the majority of their surroundings.

"Not you," Avin said. He gave Tasmir an annoyed look. "You. I think they find the leather coat intimidating."

"You mean my looks," Tasmir said.

"No, pretty sure it's the coat." Of them, Tasmir appeared the visibly youngest, her skirt and coat style fitting in with some pictures they had seen of some of the youth-culture metropolitan areas. "You look like a chuunibyou."

"You only think that because you just learned what that means six hours ago."

Waver's head snapped up and scanned the crowd. All three students looked his way at the change of attitude, confusion evident. "Joachim, how is your equipment?" Waver asked.

Tasmir looked startled from the sudden scrutiny. "…I can check," she said, eyes narrowing. She pulled her suitcase closer to her and tried working it open without spilling the contents out entirely.

The boys looked to their professor who kept a finger up to his lips.

It was probably paranoia, but Waver knew enough about his world to feel that paranoia was the way to go. He had always felt that it was mere luck that he had gone undetected during his tenure as a participant in the Holy Grail War. Pushing his luck was not something he felt was smart.

As with distancing themselves, the people around them paid no attention as Tasmir fished things out of her suitcase. Another point in favor of Waver's worry.

"Here," she said, holding up a small bag. Waver took it from her as she shifted things around again so she could zip her luggage back up.

The device that he pulled out had a similar appearance to a flip mobile phone save that the piece that opened up was made of a clear glass. Waver held it up, then scanned over each of his students with it, looking at them through the transparent side. Doing so merely gave the impression of looking at someone through a watery lens, distorting their image ever-so-slightly. He repeated the process on himself, then on their luggage.

The image rippled like a disturbed pond over one side of his suitcase.

He handed the device back to Tasmir and motioned for her to look as he flipped his bag on its side and opened it up. When the lid came up, Tasmir motioned to the flap as the source, and he shifted around until his hand came in contact with a small device the size of a coin.

"Tracking bug," Waver said, looking it over. There was no sign of a microphone. He handed it over to the others to look at.

"Whoa," Finbar said, like the situation was finally dawning on him.

"The spell," Tasmir said, waving the device over where Waver had found the device. "Small to casually ward detection. It's functioning much like a small boundary field. How did you figure?"

Waver nodded to himself, feeling marginally better, yet worse off than before. The aversion the locals had was not just been because of Waver and company's foreign appearances, but due to the spell effect. Boundary fields and spells in their category often had a subtle influence on regular people, literally making them feel uneasy in their subconscious and going the extra steps to avoid being around an active field. Even if that field was the size of a hand. "Next lesson," he said, snorting. Before anyone could contest it, he went on, "I checked my things before leaving. It was added sometime during the trip."

"You know, this is why I dislike traveling outside of my car. Can't keep track of my own stuff," Avin said.

"What now, boss?" Finbar asked.

"Don't call me that. Ur, we'll get off at the planned stop, at least." Waver looked to Tasmir. "How far away can that transmit?"

"The field itself would also cripple the transmission, so not very far. Couple hundred meters. I have to expect they're in one of the carriages to either side of us."

So they were being watched even more directly than someone tracking them via satellite or the like. The idea blossomed very clearly in the students' expressions, Avin especially looking like he wanted to look over his shoulder but was making a valiant attempt to stay composed.

Considering their options and their situation—a foreign place, a lack of preparation, unable to activate overt spellwork while still in the public eye—Waver rubbed at his chin, bouncing ideas around in his head. "We have to get eyes on whoever it is."

Without the use of Volumen, he would need to utilize other options to combat the threat.

"Then…" Avin glanced to the other two students, then nodded. "Bird's eye, third person, and first person." He smirked, motioning at where the small case for Waver's portable gaming system rested amidst the other things in his suitcase. "You know, like your games."

Waver scowled. Or scowled more than before. The train rocked him in place. "I get to be chased down by what might be a trained killer." He said so without inflection, more a statement than a question or even complaint.

"It was in your bag," Avin defended. "And you've survived worse, right?"

Waver sighed.

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

When they split up after exiting the train, Tasmir headed for the tallest building within sight.

_Bird's eye_ was in reference to her position, pre-planned amidst the trio of students for a situation such as this. It was both related to her skills in magecraft, most of which were relatively useless in direct combat, and for one of the Mystic Codes she carried with her.

Sneaking past the people she came across and bypassing locked doors took only a few minutes before finding a staircase that led her to the upper levels. Taking her time, the magus shifted her luggage around so that her suitcase was to one side and her instrument case-shaped carry-on was at hand. By the time she reached the highest level, she had the case's top open and drew out a rolled-up length of fabric.

After a moment of looking around the top level, she found the maintenance hatch that took her to the roof. She took a glance around, then found the side of the building facing where Waver and Avin would be, eventually spotting them due mostly to Waver's red coat.

The day was clear, if biting with cold. Her view would be unobstructed.

Tasmir unrolled the code. Although stiff to the touch, the material was thin, appearing hardly anything more than a bedsheet of purple. The only strange thing about its appearance was the spell circle woven into it in metallic thread.

After laying the carpet out flat, Tasmir knelt atop it and activated the boundary field.

This was not the magic carpet of myth, nor did it function like what one would call flying. It was a boundary field, and most boundary fields are stationary in practice. Even spells that resembled boundary fields often could not be changed once made: the spell concealing the tracking device they had found was stuck to the physical space on Waver's luggage.

How it resembled a magic carpet while maintaining a boundary field was straightforward: while the location of the field remained stationary relative to the user's location in space and time, the world around them continued to move on. The perception of time one had when looking out of the field while still within it became dilated, as space and time were affected by the amount of prana charged through the field. Much like the theory of faster-than-light travel, the one inside the field experienced time differently even if, from the outside, it seemed as if they were accelerated.

If the user set up on the eastern side of a city, they could appear to travel as if by flight to the western side of the city as the world rotated beneath them.

Long ago in western Asia, it was a magic related to theories of time travel and, perhaps, an inspiration for magic carpets in myth and lore. Magi of the time however did not have the resources to continually maintain the field with the purpose of eventually reaching Akasha—much like the Emiya family's research of accelerating internalized time, it worked in theory but had limited practical application. Tasmir was granted the carpet as a gift from colleagues she worked alongside in Atlas and its limited function was only suitable for short-term observation or transport.

Observation using a bird's eye view.

With a secondary field obstructing her from view, she could see for kilometers. Her defense was in remaining hidden, so she could not recklessly involve herself in a situation, but she could report what she saw and, if they discovered the pursuer, keep him under observation in return.

"Bird's Eye is ready," she said. Avin had brought a set of hand-held radios for this situation, specifically to use between the three of them and Waver in situations where phones might be a liability.

"Third Person ready," Finbar said. Tasmir spotted him some blocks down the street, not even within line-of-sight of their professor.

"First Person ready," Avin said. "Now let's find us a taxi."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Finbar was the first person to spot it, and Tasmir confirmed.

He did not follow at the distance his designation suggested. Instead, he took a taxi to the first location they had all agreed to head to—a department store some blocks away—and physically did nothing to keep up on his professor and classmate. They took a separate taxi to their destination and had departed a few minutes before he had rounded up his own transportation.

His view was in his magic as well. Unlike Tasmir, it was closer to a standard application of magecraft, but it took a fairly atypical form. A common thread amidst the senior students that studied under Lord El-Melloi II.

Familiars were common. The practice of making a contract with a creature—whether mystical or not—or animating a specially-made golem was among the basics within the Clock Tower. Often they were simply used for mundane tasks. Occasionally one was used for spying or information gathering. Situations like what Finbar and the others found themselves in would often call for a familiar to act as another set of eyes.

That was the first issue. Finbar did not consider himself sharp-eyed in the same way any of his companions were, nor his professor. He was not a visual learner. Animals often used as familiars were the same—their senses often focused on the ears or the nose, and when they were sharp visually, it was in a different fashion than humans.

His familiars were built to accommodate that. He had three different devices that served in lieu of a standard familiar, all built with a different purpose in mind. The one he had deployed to follow Waver and Avin was nicknamed Bat-Boy and it used a form of echolocation to send information back to Finbar.

Layers of redundancy. With Tasmir given the overall picture, Finbar could focus on the details without missing things due to tunnel vision. It was one of the reasons the Velvet clique within the Tower had decided on the three of them to represent their so-called faction since their abilities overlapped in a complementary fashion. Finbar himself had thought of his golem tools in response to the anecdote Waver had once given regarding the Holy Grail War—the only time he had brought it up in the classroom, in fact—related to the use of familiars to view an opponent's abilities. Waver had described how limited it was to see from an animal's perspective.

The golem was nothing more than a sphere the size of an apple or orange with wings; it moved fast enough that onlookers could mistake it for a bird of similar size. It kept pace with the taxi Waver and Avin had been in, staying a few meters above the tallest vehicle and within a dozen meters of the professor's general vicinity.

Which is where it spotted another taxi following the exact same path.

Finbar said little at first, as it could be measured within coincidences. There were plenty of taxis and other vehicles that went the same direction only to eventually take off elsewhere or stop to let passengers out. It could even be within possibility for a person to have the exact same destination. Tokyo was a busy, busy place and although their current location, Adachi, was far from the heart of the city, it still had quite a number of people about.

Still, that single taxi seemed to shadow Waver in a less-than-natural way, changing lanes immediately upon the lead vehicle doing so. Finbar could actually imagine someone in the following vehicle having instructed the driver to "follow that car."

"Tas, you have this?"

The radio crackled—interference from the boundary field Tasmir was operating through. "Following a few vehicles behind? Another taxi?"

"I assume so." The problem, of course, was that the echolocation used by Bat-Boy could not distinguish color, so he was not entirely sure it was a taxi. It was of the same or very similar make to the vehicle Waver and Avin were in.

"Someone behind us?" Avin asked, his voice coming in clearer over the radio.

"Don't look," Tasmir warned. "But yes, we think we have your tracker."

"Direct us to the western river crossing when we get out," Waver said. Adachi had the Arakawa River running along its southern end and multiple bridges spanning across it. "When you have him, we'll lose him, get across, and you'll have a bottleneck to watch if he manages to catch up with us again."

"Good luck," Finbar said. "See you soon."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

Despite the daylight hour and the implicit rule magicians had of not engaging one another in plain sight, Waver could not help but feel his heart rate increase as he sent the taxi on its way.

He had his luggage with him and Avin his, but in a situation where they were made it was agreed that Avin would take both after they tossed the tracking device. Waver hoped desperately it would not come to that. Even as he said his concern for the students that followed him was minimal, he did not want to show that kind of weakness in front of them. And he knew it was a weakness—he was just not a fit man.

They walked for a good three blocks, looking as if they were deciding on a place to eat. As the moments ticked by, Waver tried to keep his emotions clamped down. At least he knew that Avin was worse off, as the student looked like he was positively ready to explode out of his human container from nervous energy.

"We _have_ to look weird, carrying our luggage around," Avin said.

"No, just lost," Waver said. "As befitting of our stupid, not-Japanese selves."

Avin's radio crackled with static, then Tasmir's voice came over it. "We have him. Average height, wearing a skull cap and leather aviation jacket."

"To your left, about twenty meters out," Finbar said.

They did not look, instead continuing with where they were wandering down the street. "Pick up the pace," Waver said. "Joachim, direct us toward the bridge. Kern, we're going to try and get out of his line of sight. Keep your eye near him and let me know when the crowds thicken up too much to see normally."

The first ploy they had was straightforward enough. It was nearing early mealtime for businesses and there was enough of a crowd that at places like cross-walks one could get lost amidst the masses for a moment. Although Waver himself stood out in the crowd due to his fairly colorful overcoat, he was slight enough in size that he could still blend in for the most part.

It took a few tries. Two street crossings later they were at a much larger four-way stop when Finbar's voice came over the radio. "There, you're out of his line of sight."

Waver hurried but did not duck into the first alleyway he found, instead fishing the tracking device he had moved to his pocket and flinging it as far into the crevice as he could, before taking the next closest half a block further. While not a professional in this kind of setting, he did know that someone like an Enforcer would be onto the first place where visibility was lost like a hawk. Even with three extra sets of eyes on the lookout Waver did not feel that stacking his inexperienced students and his own fumbling around in the field against anybody with seasoning at all.

Avin followed after him, keeping a close watch at the mouth of the alleyway, ready in case their pursuit rounded the corner.

"Clear, he's in that first alley," Tasmir said.

"Kern, direct me to the bridge. Joachim, you keep eyes on him. Direct Aurelis to start shadowing him if he gets within fifty meters again." Waver took a deep breath, annoyed that even a short exertion had him winded. "I'll get us to the bus station after that."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

When they finally disembarked in Fuyuki, all four of them were exhausted from frazzled nerves and stressed eyes and ears. They made sure to check the bus multiple times during the journey for potential threats or tracking equipment but found none. No familiars, no doll golems, no spells, no Enforcers ready to pounce and kill them all.

"I find myself almost disappointed," Finbar said. "I was expecting assassination attempts left and right."

"Give it time," Avin said, lagging behind as he was their designated bag boy. "People haven't had an adequate sample of your real fashion sense."

"What is it with you and fashion, anyway?"

Dark had not yet crept up on the city, but the sun was now at the opposite side of the sky it had been when they had landed in Narita. It left the city feeling cooler and more inhospitable, matching the sense of tension that had followed them after ditching their shadow.

To Waver it seemed little changed. Like parts of London, the city had something of an old-world feel to it that even the encroaching threat of technology did nothing to stamp out. Although people wandered around preoccupied with mobile devices and technology was evident in the streamlined vehicles that drove by or flatscreen televisions glimpsed through store windows, something in the air maintained a feeling of stasis or a static nature.

Reluctantly, simply without knowledge of the local shops, Waver resorted to getting coffee from one of the vending machines. He was too tired to work up the resistance for it, eyes feeling baggy and droopy now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

"We lay low until we can establish the plan of attack," Waver said as he sipped at his drink. He glanced Tasmir's way. "I mean that literally. We can't overuse your tricks and end up getting shot out of the sky. Tohsaka should be leaving her place by now, so we have to find a base of operations. Ideas."

The tone he gave suggested something like a test. The three students looked to each other. "A hotel," Avin suggested. "Rent a suite to get a workshop up and running. Or a hostel, to get all of us in one place that won't look too suspicious."

"Second one is better," Waver said.

Avin frowned, scratching at the five o'clock shadow forming on his chin. "Well, or, reading up on the place, there are local-only places. Old-style inns might be overlooked by anyone tracking us."

"Also getting better," Waver said.

"Might just be smarter to look around, find a house with people out of town or that's up for rent to take over," Finbar said. His blank look suggested he had a golem up in the air taking a look around at what was in their immediate vicinity. "Kind of weird to use someone else's space, but…"

Waver shook his head. "If we have to, that's fine, but there are reports on what I did twenty years ago. They might expect that."

"Until we find a long-term solution, it is probably better if we don't discuss this in the open," Tasmir said. "I have a short-term solution."

Said solution was accepted by Waver, if not with a resounding stamp of approval. It kept them in the downtown area not far from the station, but in the opposite direction of the major hotels.

A love hotel. When it became apparent that was what Tasmir had in mind, Avin jumped at the opportunity and secured a set of rooms at a place designed to look like a cheap, idealized version of a Western castle complete with tower turrets and a drawbridge face. Avin pointed out it was like a mockery of the castles often called home by magi from the Association.

"It's hiding in plain sight, yet not," Avin said. "_Totally_ perfect, yo."

He was already speaking in a stylized Japanese dialect and attempting to sound like a teenager. Waver scowled at the back of his head as the aid led them back to their designated rooms.

"At least we can avoid the strange looks we could get with three guys and one gal going into one of these," Finbar said. The automation for purchasing rooms meant no required human interaction and a sense of privacy: money was digitally exchanged and keys were deposited similarly to a withdraw from an ATM. "But we are going to have to move eventually. Unless we have bottomless wallets." He looked somewhat hopefully to Waver.

"We will be moving a couple of times," Waver said, ignoring the look. "For now, all I care about is making sure nobody is still following us. Did your super-sonar pick up anything suspicious?"

"Nothing so far, boss."

"Stop calling me that."

They unloaded their luggage amidst the three rooms, the boys taking the polite route and giving Tasmir her own, the third for Waver and where they would set up their temporary atelier. They all then took turns alternating between getting something to eat, taking a shower, or keeping watch near the hotel's entrance.

By the time they had all rotated through and had a fresh set of clothes on, Rin Tohsaka had caught up with them, hurried into the building by Avin at watch. Luvia was with her, along with a third woman, the heir to the Matou family, hastily introduced. They brought their own luggage with them and Luvia quickly went about assisting in the finalization of the atelier setup.

"So you've found a…interesting place," Rin said, slowly.

"A real riot," Waver said. "Emiya said he had plans once he got here, but since you had us change our plans, we're winging it for the next day or two. Assuming you can't come up with better in the next ten minutes."

"I would have thought you'd have your own ideas."

Waver shrugged. "I do. They had to change because I have students with a strange notion of glory or honor in what we're doing." His gaze shifted to Sakura, who shuffled her feet nervously, looking out of depth and unsure as to what to do. "I'm assuming we can't breach the Greater Grail cavern?"

Rin explained the situation at the mountain and a truncated version of the information taken from their captured magus. She described the fields blocking their advance and the response time of the magi in the area watching over the situation. She handed out the compiled files she made regarding the magi she knew to be involved or interested in the system.

"I want to take Tasmir down to look at the fields, but it looks like right now we have to run damage control and try to weed out any magi that attempt summonings." Rin sighed. "The only positive we have is that most of us peak around the same time in the dead of night. Finding everyone is going to be an impossible chore, though."

"Nothing for it, then," Waver said. "Set out your list and we can start working out likely starting points. And tell the girl to sit down, she's making _me_ nervous."

[]==|{::::::::::::::::::::::::::-

If Waver and his students had created layers of redundancy to keep themselves safe, their pursuers had done the same as well. Despite the discovery of the electronic tracker and the state-of-the-art boundary field concealing it, despite the tracker himself being discovered and evaded—

A tabby cat followed after the magi, its presence overlooked or missed entirely. Focus on the tracker had left the familiar to go unnoticed.

It followed Waver, bounding from corner to hole to garbage bin to street bench, keeping the infamous magus in sight as he rejoined his team. The cat had not followed on-board the bus the foursome had taken to Fuyuki, instead making note of the number and license plate.

The tracker merely took his own vehicle to Fuyuki to intercept them, resuming his shadowing and following the team to their temporary hideout. He set up on the opposite rooftop, unable to watch his mark due to the hotel's lack of windows, but making sure to have a clear view of the exits.

When Rin Tohsaka showed up, he knew he had it. It was the simple solution—one that his superiors had listed as acceptable. If Lord El-Melloi II was going to take control of the situation against the majority and stepped foot onto Japanese soil, it was satisfactory to take him out. Despite the lack of an official "start" to the ceremony, the Holy Grail War was a death match. His demise was a consequence of involvement.

He pulled out a phone to make the call—and stopped at the sound of something sharp digging into the rooftop at his feet.

Pain. Sudden pain. The sensation of waves pounding his eardrums as his nerves reacted and his blood shot up to his brain to make sense of the overflowing data.

He looked down to his chest to see a hole where his sternum should have been. Blood leaked from it, running down his windbreaker and pooling between his legs. He followed the sensation, his eyes tracking the path of what made the wound and where the sound of something striking concrete had come from—

A figure stepped in front of him, blocking whatever he could have learned. His gaze was spotted anyway, his consciousness only just understanding that a humanoid figure stood before him. It was dark, or his vision was dark, and the dark sky beyond spun in place until he was looking at it from a different angle.

The figure's shoulders shook in what seemed to be silent laughter. Then it moved, though to do what, he could not tell, as more darkness obscured the action.

His eyes closed. Before consciousness completely left, he could make out the quiet words that meant something to his magical knowledge.

"_Zabaniya_."


End file.
